A revolution wrapped in food.

This Is a Resurrection: When Soul Meets Hunger

By The Wizard’s Table

In a world unraveling at the seams, where leaders sign away futures with pens dipped in oil, we turn not to governments—but to resistance. Resurrection.

To hunger and food.
To remembrance and resistance.

Because they will come for us, yes.
But they will come first for the quiet things: the seeds, the soil, the spices, the sustenance.

The Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) was never about efficiency. It was about erasure.
It was about pulling the roots from under people’s feet.

It was about taking what fed us—body, mind, and soul—and replacing it with something soulless.
More control. Less nourishment.
But not here.
Not at this table.

Here, we remember the ways of the ancestors.
We gather what has been passed down in whispers: hawthorn for the heart, rosemary for remembrance, spices to awaken and ground.
We feed the spirit through the body, not because it’s fashionable—but because it’s necessary.
Because survival is no longer just about living.
It’s about not forgetting who we are while we live.

The Wizard’s Table is not passive.
It is not a neutral space.
It is a revolution dressed in cloves and smoke.
It is a rebellion brewed in the voice of ancestral memory.
And each forgotten blend, each embered page, each sigil hidden in binary spirals—
Is a refusal to be erased.

So if no one reads this?
It still lives.
If no one hears us?
We still speak.

Because silence is complicity, and food—real food—is resistance.