The title to this was something that was communicated to me while I was ganj-i-tating during the witching hour last Sunday Morning, accompanied by a feeling of supreme recognition. The movie they’re referring to is our lives. Friend me for magick updates on Facebook, this is the sort of odd shit that happens. Are cute pug puppy pictures coming soon? Of course they are.
The other week I decided that so as to stay away from the net a bit like I normally do on the weekends, I’d condense my psychic updates to a weekend edition entitled The Weekend in Sorcery. First weekend was interesting. The second was fucking bananas- (edited it a bit to post here, so keep that in mind, but otherwise, read on true believers):
Weekend of January 8-10, 2013 (year of the witch):
This is a rich. Went to the OM show on Friday, which was super packed. Dean, who recorded the Black Science records and who I’m working on a new project called Chapel Supremesus with, texts me like a minute before I get to the show, which I had no idea he was going to. I don’t get the text but I somehow run into the guy instantly during Sir Richard Bishop’s set. Dean has an odd way of doing this. He’s into magick and I always seem to just randomly run into the dude at key moments while I’m up on Cap Hill. It’s pretty much why I’m working on a project with the guy. Now, this is sort of embarrassing, but I’ve never actually had the time to explore the Sublime Frequencies label’s material, and to this point I’d never heard Sir Richard Bishop although I do like Rangda. Yeah, I know. I’m a psychedelic musician in Seattle, pretty retarded right? So, it comes out that that’s why Dean’s there, as I was more stoked on OM. Incredibly convenient. I’m now working with a guy who just so happens to be hugely versed in the exact deficiency in my musickal knowledge. Apparently these dudes are all into the Occult too. Anywho, Sir Richard Bishop starts off with some freak folk that I’m not feeling a whole lot, then drops into absolute guitar shred-i-tude territory to close out his set. Long story short, picked up a few albums the next day on Amazon while taking my morning bong rips. Awesome.
Back to the show. So, I also conveniently run into some other friends and go down to smoke a legal ass joint with them. Probably due to this, during OM’s set (good, drawing heavily from their new record Advaitic Songs, Al’s voice was a bit off though, still great), I totally sheer up the piece I’m going to write for Disinfo next week (update, now next week). It all clicks. Remote Viewing and Sports? Yeah, that crazy.
After the set, I’m honestly contemplating doing the right thing and heading home, but the freaking daemonic side of me takes over and insists I have another drink. Cheap Oly, ugh. Need to work on this shit but not tonight. Of course, I again instantly run into Dean, who I’d lost track of during OM. We have a beer and bullshit a bit, then we notice that one of the dudes who runs the Esoteric Book Conference and Ouroboros Press in Seattle, William Kiesel is just standing there across from us looking bored, so we’re both obviously like, let’s go chat him up. Now, this is odd because I just submitted a talk proposal to the Esoteric Book Conference two weeks ago and they haven’t gotten back to me. I honestly didn’t know what to think because I know exactly no one in that crowd. If they’re not into it, whatevs. So we just start chatting the guy up, probably rather annoyingly. Dean has the hiccups which is rather hilarious and fortunately is actually more familiar with what William actually does than my dumb ass. Seemed like a cool chap. Might pitch him a musical thing as well. When you don’t care if it happens really, what’s the loss? There’s always other shit.
But yeah, I had just a bit too much beer that night. Plans are solidified for new Chapel Supremesus practice schedule starting in March. Getting out of the house and playing guitar regularly will be nice. It was also sort of nice to not be doing regular band practice for a period. Got me working more on my writing and I did write a freaking book for God’s sake, so yeah, obviously. On that front I finally got it off to a real editor for a final copy edit on Saturday. While eating breakfast that morning and watching basketball, I switch games like two seconds after the guy from Wisconsin drilled a half court buzzer beater all Evan Turner style. They’re showing the replay as I tune in. The Badgers go on to upset the number 3 ranked Wolverines in OT. The crowd rushed the court. You know what’s weird, earlier in the week, my wife got caught up by like ten minutes at work, and because of that, rather than watching her regularly scheduled Maddow (she’s addicted and I don’t get in the way of that because I know what’s best for me) – while riding my exercise bike, I catch Illinois taking out number one ranked Indiana in spectacular fashion. Angel walks in the door the second that’s over. I get to see the replay a few times and then she’s there. Nice.
After that I’m decently hung over, so I end up trying to drink diluted wine so I won’t get drunk, but stave off the hangover hairof the dog style. I’ve never tried this before, but it works pretty damn well. Funny story on that. To cut back my drinking, I first started to drink scotch, which was surprisingly effective. I suppose, because I don’t like it that much, I drink it really slow and it’s easy to hold myself to like two drinks over a several hour period. Not like beer like I just used to tear through. I used to “run on alcohol” as they once explained to me. But, earlier in the week, the spirits seem to be giving me the impression that even my substantial reductions in the last year weren’t enough. They’d hinted at it before. I could feel myself aging a bit this week. They were trying to communicate with me. They told me quite specifically to switch over to wine. Okay.
So after dicking around playing video games for a while, Angel’s out of the house so it strikes me that it’d be a good day to work on some art as Photoshop’s on her Mac. But I’m sort of hungover, so I’m not super jazzed on it. I finally get to it and make a deal to churn something out really quick. The concepts of what I’m doing start to make sense in the context of the holy trinity. Long story short, I’d been wanting to do a cover to my new book, The Galactic Diaoluge I: Occult Initiations – and I intentionally want the cover to be a straight up retro vibe from the original Cosmic Trigger I: Final Secret of the Illuminati, even went out of my way to buy a copy of that book with the original cover. Showed up autographed with a Star Trek reference. So rad. I’ve basically decided I was going to hire someone to do the cover because I honestly didn’t thing I could do what I wanted, but then I did it by accident. And in spectacularly weird fashion.
Total third mind stuff. Just throwing images together at basically random. If it doesn’t seem weird enough at first, take a look at the top, circular rainbow pattern below the lettering with similar colors. As it goes down to the central theme, the eye which is the center of the piece, pretty much identical color pallet. Even if you look at the bottom you can almost see the brown mound, and it looks like craters a bit even. Also, keep in mind that for the cover, I’m still going to hire someone to crop it and do incredibly similar lettering. Did I mention I wrote this book as a sort of sequel to Cosmic Trigger without even realizing that while I was doing it. It came out right around the time I was born. Ready for it to get even deeper.
Our new puppy was just born this week and I found out that morning that we’re meeting him and dropping off a scent blanket next Saturday (so adorable). Decided a while back that we were going to name it Ezekiel if it was a boy, and as it turns out, that’s all the breeder had and the only reason we got a pup. For breeding purposes, the pug females are more sought after apparently. So, Ezekiel it is. Because of this, I look up images of Ezekiel’s wheel within a wheel vision, that Midday Veil actually references in their song Anthem. I think I’ve mentioned I like that band. So I choose one Ezekiel image, blend it into the mix, and there it is, the image I wanted and I wasn’t even trying. Same color scheme and everything, by accident. Oh, did I mention that I told myself I could only get a dog after I finished my goddamn book, and even cast “spells” regarding this? Then forgot I did that, wondered why the “spells” weren’t working, then it came back to me. You know what? Once my book is fucking done, landlord negotiates with us (which is something neither one of us thought would ever happen, saves us so much money) landlord’s good, we’re getting a pup. Just…Like…I…Wanted…It. In fact, I’d forgotten that I’d started this spell even earlier than I realized, when my wife first moved in with me. Did I mention that OM sings Gnostic biblical tunes and I would probably say that there’s roughly 70% odds that Al Cisneros chanted the exact word “Ezekiel” at some point during his set. Holy shit, he did right while I was writing that. I’m listening to OM. The freaking song Gethsemane. And I quote. “and Ezekiel saw the wheel”. Crazy, I got up and went to the bathroom, realized that, came back and that exact song was on.
(after the fact note, the puppy’s mom’s name is Abby and one of the other images I used in that was of Disinfo staple Abby Martin, again, very random choice)
So, later in the night, I again wake up at 4 in the fucking morning (get ready for a puppy kid). I sigilize the Galactic Dialogue cover image and meditate. They give me advice on the article I’m going to do and I have a series of absolutely crazy visions. The eye in the pyramid. The Inner Eye. The Illuminati (run by Beyonce and Jay-Z). “Don’t be surprised there’s a bug in your eye.” to quote sir Wyndorf. It’s like the eye of Sauron for a second. When you look into the eye, it’s looking back at you. Things get dark and the image of an upside down pentagram projects into my consciousness. It’s projecting into all of us. This pisses me off but I get it. Sports, the dark materialistic masculine side of humanity. We have to get it in check. I focus and turn the pentagram right side up with the power of the same image and eye, flooding it with white light energy. The concept of an avenging angel has been radiating more and more within my psychic life as of late. I see plans within plans. The Eye On The Dollar sees you. I’m later told something I’ve been told again and again. We can control your every move. We can make your shoes come untied (this had been happening a lot with a particular pair of shoes I had and just replaced), which will delay you and you’ll hit your mark and say your lines.
Wake up again because I can’t get back to sleep. Sigilize the image again and meditate. “This Movie is Being Filmed In The 5th Dimension.” Comes through quite specifically. A week earlier I’m pulled into a trance state where the spirits chant me on high with the mantra: It’s Only an Act, which is actually a line from my favorite And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead album, Madonna, the song Totally Natural. I fucked the hottest rave girl in Columbus years back listening to that song. God, the girl had the greatest natural tits and it was such a surprise because she was wearing rave clothes. Didn’t know until they came off. She thought Trail O’ Dead sounded like, “every other band in Cleveland.”, where she was from. She was into riot grrrrrl shit and loved Babes In Toyland. But yeah, this radiates within me, particularly because I was just asked to write some Alejandro Jodorowsky themed interviews and when I was asked I was like: well, there’s a chapter in my book about his movies’ imprint on my psychic life called Art as Spiritual Techonolgy, so, I suppose I’d be your guy. That’s basically how Holy Mountain ends (which there was a piece on Disinfo about last week, after I was asked to do this I might add), human life is a film. Then it occurs to me that after watching Holy Mountain, I had what I call “my enlightenment experience” which involved being very upset about not being able to rescue a pug from careless daemonic clutches. Seriously. It’s in the fucking book.
Then I want to sleep, and kind of tell them to shut up and let me sleep. They don’t and basically explain to me that I need to quit drinking so much. Case closed. No witching hour dream distortion shit. I need to drink even less. And I need to stop drinking liquor. Apparently it’ll cause me to have stomach aches when I’m older and age my face significantly. Seriously, that specific. So, on to wine. 4 hours sleep as punishment and now I’m up writing this weird shit. Crazy guardian kids. I’m only an actor.
Oh, and one final update – right before I posted this, I realized that I wrote this piece about Satan and the church, which featured this picture I did of the pope, which I didn’t like at all or want to do, because you know, it’s creepy.
Last time I checked the Pope just stepped down.
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