QUARANTINE OCCULTURE: A NEW AGE IN ISOLATION

Meet the Influencers, Experts, and Grifters Who Shaped Pandemic Spirituality

I’ve been toying with the idea of writing something like this for ages, but I just couldn’t nail down the perfect intro. Then, last night, I threw the question out to my social media followers: should I finally dive in and write this piece? The response was an overwhelming yes. To top it off, as if blessed by the algorithm gods, I stumbled upon an article by someone named Taalumot — I had never heard of them before, but it was clear they’d arrived at similar conclusions I had. So, here we are.

Remember the pandemic? A time when the world, in a paradoxical twist, chose to confront a global crisis by collectively burying its head in the digital sand. Avoidance, it seems, became the primary motivator for our newfound online obsession. We sought to escape The Real World™, a chaotic mess, yet we couldn’t completely ignore reality. We had to engage with Real Problems™ — not the mundane, yawn-inducing human issues (ugh, who needs that?) but the root problems, the mythical Cause of All Suffering™.

When Avoidance Became the New Normal

Fast-forward a few years, and it dawned on many that the key to overcoming their pandemic-induced trauma was addressing the rest of their personal problems — the ones that hours of meditating during lockdown hadn’t magically solved.

I argue that’s because so many did not take the time to truly learn what meditating or doing magick actually amounted to.

Taalumot points out that this revelation sparked a radical shift: viewing issues from a relational perspective, finding common ground with family and community, and (gasp) working through problems together. This transformative approach required people to purge the esoteric jargon accumulated over those few years so they could actually understand one another.

Naturally, this meant ditching the vast majority of their online influences that had so graciously programmed them with that very jargon. As they began this mental detox, many had a stunning realisation: these online gurus had been posting the same recycled content every single day for three years. The same tired conversations, chanted like a mantra, designed to keep everyone stuck in a loop. The goal was clear: don’t move on, don’t change. Stay comfortably numb. This realisation of the futility of digital avoidance was a turning point in their journey towards genuine relationships, empowering them to take control of their own narratives.

Taalumot’s description points to those who either became or fell for what I will call the Zoomer Influencers. As it turns out, attentional warfare via one-to-many media was tearing that foundation apart. So, out went the megaphones, and in came the heart-to-hearts. Because, apparently, humans thrive on genuine connections. Who would’ve guessed?

While this likely describes the majority of those who discovered occulture during the lockdown years, they represent only two types. There are more. Let’s delve into the others, from the slightly older Witchy Girlbosses (and Queerbosses) with their blend of mysticism and capitalism to the authentic yet often overshadowed Real Tarot Readers and Astrologers. We also witnessed the rise of the insidious Doomer Grifters, spreading fear and division. There were the Phenomenon Tourists, who dipped their toes into the paranormal before often retreating, and their darker counterparts, the Disclosure Hunters, lost in a sea of conspiracy theories. The Occult Podcasters quickly pivoted from sharing valuable information to platforming crazies only to keep their content schedule filled. Finally, we have the Esoteric Personal Trainers, like myself, striving to impart genuine knowledge amidst the chaos.

So, let’s examine these characters closer and see how they emerged during those tumultuous lockdown years.

The Usual Suspects of Lockdown Occulture

The Zoomer Influencer

Ah, the Zoomer Influencer, the shining star of the lockdown era. These whiz kids, no older than 24, were the true masters of digital domains, effortlessly navigating every new platform that sprang up during the pandemic. Their tech-savvy nature made them naturally adept at staying relevant, always one step ahead in the game of online popularity.

These youthful virtuosos were at home in front of a camera, with their faces perpetually bathed in the glow of their screens. They knew every trick in the TikTok book, burying themselves under a million filters to present an image so polished it could blind you. They spoke with the confidence of seasoned experts, despite their primary source of information being Wikipedia articles they could recite verbatim.

Their charm lay in their audacity — no topic was too complex or obscure for them to tackle with a straight face. They built their followings by making the complex seem simple, and the mundane seem profound. The Zoomer Influencer’s kingdom was one where quick edits and catchy music ruled, and their subjects were more than willing to pledge their allegiance to these digital dynamos.

In essence, the Zoomer Influencer was the epitome of the lockdown’s occultural landscape: young, bold, and blissfully ignorant of the limits of their own knowledge, they shaped the discourse with a mix of charisma and chutzpah that was as mesmerising as it was maddening.

The vast majority of these types also dipped liberally into another playbook, expertly silencing and cancelling older folks while accusing them of ageism, misogyny, and all the usual outrage-baiting accusations. They wielded these accusations with the finesse of seasoned dramatists, all while positioning themselves as the victims of the very issues they perpetuated. The pièce de résistance was when the most prominent of the bunch did a wild pivot — from catering to young queer witches to suddenly courting an audience of alt-right zealots, embracing the “tradwife” aesthetic. It became glaringly apparent how misplaced their loyalties had been all along. Yet, in true influencer fashion, very few of her peers were willing to admit they had been wrong. The silence was deafening yet telling.

Now that tradwives are suddenly not popular anymore, what will the next pivot look like?

The Witchy Girlboss

Next up in our parade of lockdown archetypes is the Witchy Girlboss. Picture this: usually a woman in her late 20s to late 30s, but let’s not kid ourselves — gender didn’t really matter here. The Witchy Girlboss archetype was inclusive, spanning across the entire gender spectrum, giving rise to the equally enchanting Witchy Queerboss.

These individuals mirrored the Zoomer Influencer in almost every way, except for one crucial difference — their age. This slight advantage granted them a touch more resistance to the intoxicating pull of social media. They were more adept at avoiding the fate of becoming complete algorithmic slaves, which, in the grand scheme of things, made them seem like digital sages.

Despite this apparent wisdom, the Witchy Girlboss’s content (oh, what a glorious term) was a familiar brew of recycled, lukewarm nonsense. The kind of drivel we used to affectionately call “new age bullshit” back in the day. Their social media feeds were a treasure trove of pseudo-spiritual advice, sprinkled with just the right amount of corporate jargon to maintain that #bossbabe or #bossqueer aesthetic.

These individuals were the royalty of blending mysticism with capitalism, selling enlightenment alongside productivity hacks. They touted crystals and moon rituals with the same fervour as they did quarterly business goals and networking strategies. Their followers were encouraged to channel their inner goddess or god while crushing their professional aspirations because, apparently, you can manifest your dream life if you just balance your chakras and hustle hard enough.

The Witchy Girlboss was all about empowerment, but their version of it was wrapped in a package of tired clichés and superficial wisdom. The content was a comforting echo chamber of positive affirmations and feel-good mantras, designed to keep everyone on the same endless hamster wheel of self-improvement.

In a nutshell, the Witchy Girlboss (or Queerboss) was the elder sibling to the Zoomer Influencer, offering a slightly more mature but equally vapid alternative. They were masters at presenting the illusion of depth while skimming the surface of proper understanding, ensuring their followers remained blissfully trapped in the cycle of consuming the same old spiritual drivel.

The Real Tarot Reader (or Astrologer)

Amidst the digital noise of the lockdown era emerged the Real Tarot Reader (or Astrologer). These were the genuine experts of their arts, true connoisseurs of tarot and astrology who saw the pandemic-induced surge of interest in the occult as a golden opportunity. Finally, they could showcase their talents and extensive knowledge to a broader audience and perhaps bring in a little more income during such uncertain times.

Age wasn’t a defining factor here. While many of these genuine practitioners were in their late 30s to mid-40s, you could just as easily encounter younger folks with a remarkable knack for tarot or astrology. Talent, after all, knows no age boundaries. Despite their diverse ages, these individuals shared a common goal: to elevate their craft and connect with people on a deeper, more authentic level.

Some of these real tarot readers did indeed manage to carve out a niche for themselves, gaining popularity and respect within the online occult community. Their readings and star charts offered clarity and guidance in a world turned upside down, and their audiences valued the sincerity and depth they brought to the table.

Unfortunately, the vast majority of these authentic practitioners found themselves drowned out by the relentless content barrage from Zoomer Influencers and Witchy Girlbosses. The market was saturated with flashy, surface-level content, and it was challenging for the true experts to compete with the algorithm-driven frenzy. Despite their genuine expertise and earnest efforts, many real tarot readers and astrologers struggled to get the recognition they deserved in the cacophony of the lockdown years.

The Real Tarot Reader stood as a testament to the enduring value of authentic expertise. Even though their louder, less knowledgeable counterparts frequently overshadowed them, they were the unsung heroes of the occulture boom, providing a glimmer of authenticity in a sea of superficiality.

The Doomer Grifter

And now we dive headfirst into the lockdown-era cesspool with the Doomer Grifter. Easily the worst type to emerge during the pandemic, this character is an older man, invariably aged between his late 30s and mid-50s. These were not newcomers to the online realm; they had an established internet presence long before COVID-19 ever made its grand entrance.

The Doomer Grifter could be an author, YouTuber, blogger, or even a publisher. What they all had in common was an unwavering certainty that they held the Truth — with a capital T. And finally, they found a terrified audience desperate for reassurance to spread their poison to.

From spouting antivaxx lunacy to hawking conspiracies about the Great Reset, these men were (and sadly still are) the true architects of the current landscape, which is now shrouded in the toxic fog of a modern-day Satanic Panic 2.0. They fed on fear and uncertainty, offering their particular brand of doom-laden certainty as a balm. Their rhetoric was designed to stoke paranoia, distrust, and division, with a self-assuredness that only amplified their insidious influence.

Their content was a relentless stream of apocalyptic predictions and dark fantasies, presented as if they were undeniable facts. They were — and still are — masters of the echo chamber, creating feedback loops of fear that kept their followers perpetually on edge and dependent on their next grim pronouncement.

While the Doomer Grifter was constantly at odds with, and often directly critical of, the Zoomer Influencer, they didn’t shy away from taking inspiration from the latter’s playbook. They were relentless in chasing down everyone who dared to speak against them, weaponising their mindless fanbases in vitriolic campaigns of defamation targeted at their opponents — those sane enough to call out their bullshit.

It should be noted that the Doomer Grifter is the perfect, living embodiment of the horseshoe theory, as they could be found at the extreme ends of the political spectrum, holding hands in their imagined war against “them.” They thrived on this paradox, uniting disparate followers under a banner of shared delusion and discord.

Ultimately, the Doomer Grifter left a lasting scar on the digital landscape, their legacy of paranoia and division seeping into every corner of online discourse. They were the puppet masters behind the scenes, pulling the strings and watching with satisfaction as the world danced to their fearful tune.

The Phenomenon Tourist

Let’s take a moment to brighten the mood with the Phenomenon Tourist. These delightful wanderers were one of the best things to happen during the lockdown years — at least until some of them inevitably transformed into our next type (but more on that later). The Phenomenon Tourist was your average person who never imagined they’d encounter the occult and paranormal in their lives. Yet, as lockdowns hit and boredom set in, they found themselves binging on paranormal and ghost-hunting shows.

Initially, they devoured content from the usual grifter ghost-hunting bros, soaking up every fabricated jump scare and dubious EVP. But eventually, their discernment kicked in, and they began to sift through the muck to find the genuinely good shows. These quality productions sparked a genuine curiosity, leading them down the rabbit hole of understanding magick and the occult.

Unfortunately, the term “tourist” is apt here. Most of these individuals were just that — tourists. They lacked the patience, determination, or inclination to delve deeper into the mysteries they had started to uncover. Their interest, while genuine, was often fleeting. Once the novelty wore off or the real-world demands began to resurface, their practices fell by the wayside.

Moreover, many Phenomenon Tourists became disillusioned by the antics of the nasty types we’ve already discussed — the Zoomer Influencers, Witchy Girlbosses, and Doomer Grifters. The toxicity and superficiality of these figures drove the tourists away, leaving them with a sour taste and a reluctance to continue their exploration.

The Phenomenon Tourist was a brief, shining light in the lockdown-era occult scene. They brought a fresh perspective and a burst of enthusiasm, even temporarily. Their journey through the paranormal was a reminder that curiosity and a desire for understanding can still flourish, even in the darkest times.

The Disclosure Hunter

Now, let’s delve into the dark side of the Phenomenon Tourist: the Disclosure Hunter. This breed of truth-seeker focused strictly on ufology and seemed to materialise out of nowhere, coinciding with an unexpected surge of mainstream media coverage on the topic. With tantalising promises of imminent, government-sanctioned disclosure, a legion of armchair “experts” — reminiscent of characters from the worst X-Files episodes — flooded social media.

Twitter, which became the wild west after the takeover by the “free speech absolutist” Shit Tony Stark, was the perfect battleground for these Disclosure Hunters. They immediately organised into opposing factions, each fervently promoting their version of the Truth as the ultimate one. What followed was a series of nasty doxxing wars, as if 4chan behaviour had suddenly become the gold standard for human interaction.

These disclosure hunters were relentless, constantly digging for new information, or rather, new ways to validate their existing beliefs. The echo chambers grew louder, the accusations intensified, and the divide deeper. The Disclosure Hunters were not content with simply sharing their views; they sought to dominate the conversation, often resorting to underhanded tactics to silence their opponents.

Many of these individuals found themselves ensnared in the nets of Doomer Grifters, who were all too happy to exploit their fears and obsessions for personal gain. In certain extreme cases, Disclosure Hunters even transformed into Doomer Grifters themselves, seduced by the power and influence that came with spreading fear and conspiracy.

The Disclosure Hunter represented the dangerous potential of unbridled curiosity turned toxic. What began as a quest for Truth and understanding devolved into a battleground of egos and misinformation, further muddying the already murky waters of the occult and paranormal landscape during the lockdown years.

The Occult Podcaster

Esoteric podcasting wasn’t a phenomenon born of the pandemic; its roots can be traced back to the early 2010s when a few pioneering voices began to explore the occult and paranormal through this new medium. However, it was during the lockdown years that podcasts truly became the bread and butter of occult discourse. They offered a simple way to keep people entertained, requiring only passive listening. This convenience, while appealing, unfortunately, transformed esoteric exploration into passive infotainment rather than the active and engaged seeking it was meant to be.

Initially, these podcasts served as a valuable gateway to discovering serious voices in the occult and paranormal spheres. They brought diverse perspectives and in-depth discussions to the fore, providing listeners with a broad spectrum of insights and knowledge. The format allowed for long-form content, where nuanced conversations about magick, spirituality, and the mysteries of the universe could flourish.

But as time went on, many of these podcasts began to lose their way. The relentless need to produce new content and keep the content algorithms happy led to a decline in quality. Many podcasters, in their quest to churn out episodes, started platforming dubious characters and unverified theories. What began as a platform for serious discourse turned into a stage for sensationalism, with crazies and charlatans given airtime just to fill the schedule.

Moreover, the ecosystem of occult podcasting gradually became an echo chamber. Rather than continuing to introduce fresh voices and new ideas, many podcasts fell into the trap of repeatedly featuring the same guests. This repetition stifled the diversity of thought and reduced the vibrancy of the discussions, making the content predictable and stale.

However, it’s worth noting that there are still good podcasts out there, especially now that the trend is dissipating. These dedicated podcasters continue to provide valuable content, focusing on quality over quantity and maintaining the integrity of their discussions.

As the craze for occult podcasts settles, the landscape may once again become fertile ground for genuine exploration and thoughtful dialogue, allowing the medium to reclaim its potential as a force for true occult education and engagement.

The Esoteric Personal Trainer

And now we arrive at the last, but certainly not least, type: the Esoteric Personal Trainer. Full disclosure, this is the group I belong to, so bear with me as I strive for objectivity.

We were the close cousins of the Real Tarot Readers and Astrologers, seasoned practitioners who sought to bring our decades of experience with magick and the esoteric sciences to the newly curious audiences of the lockdown era. Our occult pedigrees were impressive, boasting degrees and grades obtained from various well-known (or notorious) occult orders. Despite our credentials, many of us shared a deep disillusionment with these hierarchical structures, which were invariably tainted by nepotism and, worse, acting as gatekeepers of knowledge.

In retrospect, I must admit that we were a bit too starry-eyed and hopeful. We believed that if we could finally tear down those gates for those genuinely interested in learning the “secrets” hidden within the walls, people would commit the necessary dedication to truly understand them. We imagined a flood of eager students, ready to delve into the complexities of esoteric knowledge with the same fervour that we had.

However, the reality was somewhat different. While there were indeed some dedicated individuals, many were merely dabbling, lacking the patience and commitment required to deeply engage with the material.

The allure of instant gratification, exacerbated by the digital age, meant that our lofty goals of widespread enlightenment often fell short.

Despite our good intentions, many ended up calling us grifters because we dared to spend hundreds of hours crafting courses or writing books and then, shock and horror, actually selling them. The issue of “selling magick” is an old one that I have discussed before, but the debate has never raged as fiercely as in the past few years. The argument became so heated that some of the very same Esoteric Personal Trainers ended up joining the witch hunt against the perceived “grifters” when their own material did not make the financial impact they expected.Yet the Esoteric Personal Trainers pressed on, driven by a genuine desire to share and educate. We offered guidance, training, and insights, hoping to ignite a spark of proper understanding in a sea of superficial interest. It was a challenging path, but one that we walked with determination, knowing that even a few genuine seekers made the effort worthwhile.

I will likely fail at my attempt at objectivity now, but the Esoteric Personal Trainer stood as a beacon of authenticity and dedication. We sought to bridge the gap between ancient wisdom and modern curiosity, striving to cultivate a deeper, more meaningful engagement with the esoteric arts.

A Glimpse into an Uncertain Future

Reflecting on the lockdown years, we’ve journeyed through a rogues’ gallery of occultural archetypes.

We began with the Zoomer Influencers, those tech-savvy youths who captivated the online world with their confident, albeit shallow, knowledge. We then met the Witchy Girlbosses (and Queerbosses), older and slightly more grounded yet still peddling the recycled spiritual fluff of yesteryear. The Real Tarot Readers and Astrologers stood as genuine experts striving for recognition amid the digital chaos. At the same time, the Doomer Grifters emerged as the darkest players, sowing fear and division with their apocalyptic visions. The Phenomenon Tourists brought a brief, fresh enthusiasm to the mix, only to often become disillusioned or morph into Disclosure Hunters, who descended into conspiracy-fueled battlegrounds. The Occult Podcasters played the soundtrack to these troubled times. Finally, we explored the Esoteric Personal Trainers, dedicated to sharing authentic occult knowledge but frequently misunderstood and maligned.

As for what the future holds, I genuinely don’t know. We live in times far too volatile to make any predictions, no matter what the next Doomer Grifter might try to convince you of. Who knows — maybe better times are ahead.

Perhaps the seeds planted in the last few years, despite all that transpired, will help foster a deeper, more authentic engagement with the esoteric.

In the end, only time will tell if the occulture of the lockdown years will lead to a renaissance of understanding or fade into a curious footnote of our shared digital history.