Articles by Thad McKraken



The story of how the work of Pam Grossman and her fantastic Phantasmaphile blog came to my attention quite predictably reeks of divine witchery. Despite being a practicing Occultist for 7 years, I somehow remained completely oblivious to the fact that one of the premier Occult book conventions in the world had been going down right beneath my nose in my hometown for four years. When I finally got hip, I remembered, then forgot, then remembered again at the last minute. Unfortunately, by that point I’d accidentally scheduled some family shit on the first day of the conference that I couldn’t easily duck out of. So I only caught day 2. It started at like 10 in the morning and I had to bus down, so I actually planned on skipping the first presentation as I’d stayed up late the night before. Through the course of that night, in some secret state of deranged hypnagogia, a voice came through the ether proclaiming: “they fucked up the order.”

I didn’t honestly know what this meant, but I woke up early the next morning at complete random. I was just lying there…






Maybe it was unintentionally watching the “Sterling drops LSD” episode of Mad Men on Robert Anton Wilson’s birthday, or maybe because after watching that I stumbled upon an acid themed Politically Incorrect…



Who are “they”? Good question. Grey Aliens? Beings from the Sirius star system? Harvey the white rabbit? Fuck if I know. They appear to refract differently through the nervous system of everyone…


Back in 2011, Disinfo helped impart the terrible news that one of my favorite publications in the history of the universe, Arthur, was unfortunately closing down shop (Arthur R.I.P.) due to financial…


Inspired by Matt’s The Incubus Made Me Do It post from last week, it occurred to me that I’d actually written an entire chapter on the rarely explored topic of astral molestation in my first book. It’s out of print and I’m quite sure none of you have read it, so we’ll just mine it a bit at this point as I finish the final edits for my next book on occult weirdness (out spring 2013). Maybe I’ll do a re-release some day, but truthfully, I basically did nothing to promote the thing because I didn’t like it much. Parts are great but overall, way too dark. As was the nature of my life at the time. The thing is, despite me not liking it much, it was in fact a quite intentional work of magick, intended to destroy the alcoholic jerk off side of my personality (the death impulse) and re-align myself with the sacred feminine current of the multiverse. In that regard, it worked spectacularly well. Details soon.

For now, let’s talk about sex with the spirits. It’s certainly one of those things that never, ever would have occurred to me as anything other than total batshit crazy-ville until it fucking happened, which is a theme you’ll find a lot in any kind of occult or paranormal circles. If you’re into this sort of thing, it’s probably because something went down in your inner life that you couldn’t explain. This would be one of those cases. To give a bit of lead up here, because of the bizarro art invasion experiences I had on mushrooms and acid in my late teens, I started playing around with Robert Monroe’s techniques of astral projection at the suggestion of my mother. She went to Berkeley during the sixties and never tried drugs (lame), but had caught a bit of the new age bug that was so trendy at the time…