Taste the Forbidden History. Witchcraft owned your skin before you ever knew you did. You slipped into it down the drain-pipe of a birth cord, and it had you sewn into the flesh-purse of your baby hide. Many tales have come down to us over the past few hundred years, stories of outsiders reflected in a mirror darkly. The People of the Outside is a different sort of history, some of the deepest buried sediment to be found in a cave and sifted for traces of the past. It is a history of the dust. It pulls apart binaries and invites us to use our hybrid brains - every tool, from science to intuition - to untangle the elf-locks that endure as a clever-cord, an elongated witch’s ball, one that reaches all the way back to our own almost extinct ancestors. Welcome to the witchcraft of the dispossessed, from the almost until recently forgotten forebears to eating people, and an unflinching examination of what it means to be a person of the outside.

Taste the Forbidden History. Witchcraft owned your skin before you ever knew you did. You slipped into it down the drain-pipe of a birth cord, and it had you sewn into the flesh-purse of your baby hide. Many tales have come down to us over the past few hundred years, stories of outsiders reflected in a mirror darkly. The People of the Outside is a different sort of history, some of the deepest buried sediment to be found in a cave and sifted for traces of the past. It is a history of the dust. It pulls apart binaries and invites us to use our hybrid brains - every tool, from science to intuition - to untangle the elf-locks that endure as a clever-cord, an elongated witch’s ball, one that reaches all the way back to our own almost extinct ancestors. Welcome to the witchcraft of the dispossessed, from the almost until recently forgotten forebears to eating people, and an unflinching examination of what it means to be a person of the outside.