Adventures in Audiomancy: The Night Thief

Adventures in Audiomancy #2


In lieu of the looming blood-moon / eclipse this Friday, July 28th, 2017 (only a month short of the August eclipse’s anniversary), I thought I’d begin to share my Adventures in AUDIOMANCY behind the new DAKOTA SLIM album.  A record which birthed from my most heinous and magnanimous magickal act…ever.  The ritual was casted under the cosmic shadow of that 2017  total eclipse, and that very event would generate a radically supernatural and bewildering existence thereafter.  It would also birth my most honest collection of original songs to date: CACTUS CROWN  by DAKOTA SLIM 


AUDIOMANCY – or simply, sound magicks – was fervently utilized in the creation of the album (more specifically, my personal technique I call DIMS).  Since that fateful August eclipse, these DIMS have evolved to become my preferred channel for dimming this somatic reality, whether that means a journey through the inner, psychic corridors of the subconscious, or the ability to act as a literal trans-dimensional wayfarer.  These voyages are documented within the DNA of the album, albeit artistically.

This Adventures in Audiomancy series will investigate these aforementioned metaphysical means, musical or otherwise,  invoked to conjure this album: CACTUS CROWN  is a hyper sigil brimming with the brilliant love, drastic drama, preternatural power and psychic spelunking stemmed from last August eclipse’s till it’s June 26th, 2018 Full Moon completion…

Read the introduction to ADVENTURES IN AUDIOMANCY 

The following is an excerpt from: WE THE HALLOWED


or How I Learned to Stop Dillydallying and Cast Cosmic Bombs

The day of the eclipse, August 21st 2017, began with me intensely organizing a sobering helping of revelations.  These reveals were recently rewarded through my mostly-solitary  two day sabbatical prior in the Oregon wilderness.I utilized the three day excursion to vex the psychical and philosophical self-hexes I had accrued over a tumultuous few years.Through fevered meditations, I toiled with the unbearable truths I’ve long avoided until finally I was able to fathom the facets of my life that specifically swelled with stagnation; the elementals of modern life that turned my inner rhythms into muted hums were now throbbing sores.

Out in the muggy woods, I found myself submerged in the dopamine-depleted realities that are inherent in ex-drug addicts during the existential come-down, you know, the gravity resulted from those initial highs of adjusting to newly found, clean living. I was now witness to those truly insidious, hollow habits that were the true culprits behind any misstep, the ones really behind the ill wills, be they a foray into drug abuse or a refusal to wear sunblock under the mid-August sun, the self-sabotagers.  Finally, these crooked little bastards were now blindingly apparent, sanitized by the sun but harrowing all the same.  I remembered how easy it was back when the drugs were to blame; to look upon those times with a bittersweet resolve was further evidence of a corrupted sense of self.

Somehow, over these last few years I managed to survive solely off the rudimentary victories awarded to the aimless with low expectations.   When my purpose seemed askew, my spiritual drive and relationships began down a dark trajectory.   The ouroboros of thought and blame I cloaked my brain in the months, no years, leading up to that scorched Oregon forest were enough and… listen,I’m being a bit dramatic, I get it. It’s hard to qualify emotions and desperation without the rough and tumble of major events, but that’s just it.  Nothing exceedingly negative occurred, somatically.  The gestation of my inner turmoils is but an unnecessary prologue to where this story begins.  For the record, I’ve been in worse spots, literally, figuratively, psychically, emotionally… the reason this time was so harrowing was because I had finally attained the traits necessary for a purposeful life but was in the swells of  surely, somber living. My In-actions had brought me there, and I was grateful for doing so, but I had nothing in reserve to carry on with life as it was. 

I was in a cold coexistence – both with myself and within a long since soured relationship.Of course, the wallows of economic ineptitude whilst breaching my thirties and the frustration and futility of societal expectations added to the numb. And that’s just it.My entire life my heart was a fist, and anger fueled my resilience, but I had reached an apathy akin to why I detoured into drug use those many years ago, except more terrifying now because it was natural.I saw no end to this given the mechanisms I had in my armory.  It was if I had become fully realized, my literal wit’s end, everything learned had been exorcised… so short-story-long and then short again, I was under that totality of the Leo eclipse casting cosmic bombs, utilizing all my magicks, babbling, drooling, burning, shouting, contorting… all out of desperation.  The first time I had ever employed magick out of desperation.

No more dicking about,pontificating on the intellectualism or on magick’s rudimentary ties to self-help psychology.Fuck that, I’m going full freak.  That’s what led me to the August eclipse, in the middle of the the Oregon forest, sullied and severed from the world, and ready to cast my exit strategy from the confines of learned guilt and disappointment. Ready for healthy change no matter how it manifested.  That or never return.  Demons, do your worst.  I’m through messin’ around… cont’d


For more info visit  DAKOTA SLIM.COM 

TW: @wethehallowed / @pragmagick_cast / @revelrosz
IG:  @wethehallowed / @pragmagick_cast / @dakotaslim_hymns


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Revel Rosz

Revel Rosz

Revelator at We The Hallowed
Revel Keats Rosz is a Portland, Oregon based (sometimes current but mainly) former fuck-up, writer, composer, dubious dabbler of magicks, host of the PRAGMAGICK podcast and creator of the art collective WETHEHALLOWED.ORG.
Revel Rosz
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