Articles by Dr. Bones


Broken, bloodied, my stomach churned to pieces. I stumble to awaken, one eye open gathering at fragments of memories. What had happened? My phone is filled with late night calls to any writers I could think of and though the conversations are forgotten their urgent message snaps back to the forefront of my mind





I laugh in the face of death, make horrible crude jokes, and just generally find some measure of joy in situations where others might cry or wail. I’m the kind of guy that finds shit like this hilarious:














Could this be the work of “Lord of all fevers and plagues, grinning Dark Angel of the Four Wings, horned, with rotting genitalia?” A question out of place for most secular websites, but surely I’m not the only occultist pondering the implications of a gigantic spiritual vortex of pain and suffering being kept alive by two very material forces.