The first time I tried doing mag!c, it was my 39th birthday.
Interestingly enough, my *40th* birthday happened to be the day I had my own Abducted By Aliens In Katmandu moment, where-- with the help of the four incredibly powerful edibles my fellow Mortuary Science classmates had gifted me, which I ate all four of in a row, having no idea how they worked-- the world slowed down to individualized comic book panel moments; I made the mistake of peeking between the panels; and I was found by what I can only describe as "the Fae," who would have me still, if it hadn’t been my birthday. They had to let me go, because it was my birthday. There were RULES, I was told.
But, that's a different tale, for a different campfire.
Back to the day of my 39th trip 'round the sun. Two weeks prior, I'd had an acquaintance of mine call me out of the blue, claiming they had a gift for me: their last words-- soon after which, they proceeded to blow away everything above their neck with a shotgun (which, I must say, being on the other end of a phone call like that? Not a fan; zero stars out of five, and I wish I could say that was the last time something like that ever happened around me).
Understandably, I was suddenly *very* mindful of the fact that death could come for us at any time, if we were determined enough. So I had an Idea-- one that managed to cross that Abyss you spoke of. What if I could call upon fictional Pokemon characters as guardian beasts for those closest to me?
I told twelve friends of my intentions, and asked them what their favorite Pokemon was. Receiving three "I'd rather you didn’t"s (fair enough!) and nine different Pokemon as my answers, I went about finding a collectible card game card of that particular Pokemon to stand for that friend in the protection spell I intended to cast.
I won't go into too many details as to how I cast the spell, there on my birthday, as I was playing the whole thing by ear *any*how, but. My friends and I gathered, just them and me, throughout the day; we held up the card representing each of ourselves as Pokemon; I cast their part of the spell over them, pinky-swearing to each other that we'd never kill ourselves in each other's presence; I gave each of them their (laminated, for durability) Pokemon card; told them to keep it safe; the day came to an end; and I rested, inexplicably exhausted.
My own card remains in my fireproof safe. I took this mag!c *very* seriously.
But I never expected to be told the spell had worked. A few times by now, in fact. People with the most analytical minds, who believed in no sort of mystical tomfoolery, told me, over the four years since then, how something or other had driven them to the absolute brink, to where they began to plan How-- and suddenly, the friend felt my Pokemon (an Umbreon) there with them, and they knew they couldn’t go through with what they were about to do, because they'd made a Pokemon promise that they wouldn’t.
I remain all flavors of grateful to have been able to nudge reality in this way, however small. I'm so glad my friends and I exist. ❤️
Very excited for this! I'm currently immersed in reading a series of books by "Denning & Phillips", a pair of occultists with (what seems to me) a very practical take on ceremonial magic. Less didactic than the Golden Dawn, less fond of edginess-for-the-sake-of-it than the Crowley people. But most of my interest in this stuff is due to having read Robert Anton Wilson, Alan Moore, and Grant. The overlap between magic and art is powerful stuff.
being connected to the other side of the abyss at such a young age had some strange consequences for both of us growing up. We both lost loved ones before the age of four, which initiated our own amateur dives into energy work and understanding the metaphysical in our own way. I believe Robert Heinlein called a version of this "grok" but there are other variations of this in Abrahamic and non-Abrahamic traditions too. I hate to lump them like this, but there are important distinctions. Abrahamic influenced traditions prefer order/surrendering one's will over to another spiritually to some extent. (Whether to a spirit or to another human) While non-Abrahamic emphasize the importance of one's own will in some varying capacity. The experiences we had growing up within the realm of human emotion, spirituality, and life itself were perhaps not much different than some people's, but our methods of coping were. Before either of us were in middle school, we both had what science would call heightened peripheral nerves, PTSD, psychosis, you name it. As you call it, we discovered "role playing" in ways that created time-separations. So what else were we to do but find a moment of ourselves through space and time in the books of our lives? One moment that affirmed we could experience this crazy shit with someone who understands these connections and could make sense of them with us. Experiencing life in different lenses, panels, frames, camera-angles-- we became teenagers with too many keys to too many doors. We ended up "meeting" each other about 6 years before we met each other in college under the funniest of coincidences! (--and we dropped out together too. AT LEAST you spared yourself the taste student loan debt!) Call it whatever it is- manifestation, pattern-seeking, fate or some deity being kind- we finally found someone who could understand the fragility of life. Someone to appreciate every moment of this quite nauseating energy exchange we call life with. We became tethers to reality for each other in a way. It's fun to see that even without the formalities that magick usually gets when approached by those we've learned from in recent years, it still works!
we aren’t the entire meat bag, we really are electrical spitfires and all the leaky emotional baggage too, like vibrations of a song to each their own
looking in all the mirrors until the Goldilocks moment-(maybe this is friend, role model, something more) following the whole breadcrumb trail down the rabbit hole- beyond the ninth layer of hell and looping back up to the top again until the photons compress into orbs that we follow over and over again- the groove forms and splits off into new paths with wild dogs, meat tearing from the bone as they mad dash in oblivion, disappearing and assimilating into atoms- what we know as people //
Luda from the wormhole “I’m not behind you- you’re just in front of me!”//
I distinctly remember the first time I watched “Morrison at ChaosCon,” and from then on my mind opened. I always believed in the fantastic, in the mystery between spaces; it only needed to be awakened within. Now, I’m a chaos magician and will is my instrument. Thank you for sharing!!
For some reason this stuff about the Will reminds me of that bit in Back to the Future when George weakly turns away during the final dance from Marty’s mum (giving up, entropy?), the Will recedes, only to inexplicably come back full-force to reclaim his, and his entire family’s destiny! Does the Will to power equal fascism?
No, Will to Power does •not• Equal Fascism -- it means doing what you SAY you are going to do, and keeping your promises, even though you don’t WANT to.
Generationally, the most important line in Back to The Future, is when Chronus/Doc Brown is SCREAMING into Horus/Marty’s face : “NO! I •REFUSE• TO ACCEPT THE RESPONSIBILITY..!!! THE CONSEQUENCES COULD BE DISASTROUS..!!”
The Queen of Heaven : People, I mean friends on My Husband's side - were indicating that I was again unstable, sick, and should be put in a home of some sort in order to ‘get better’.
I was almost an embarrassment.
Q. : Do you think he •really• thought that?
The Queen of Heaven : Well, there's no better way to dismantle A Personality than to isolate it.
Perfect-10 [on screen]: Well, not •hear• you, exactly, but I KNOW •everything• you're going to say.
The Fool: Always gives me the shivers, that bit.
SALLY: •How• can you know what I'm going to say?
Perfect-10 [on screen]: Look to Your Left.
(Where Larry is sitting on the floor, writing.)
The Fool : What does he •mean• by ‘look to your left’? I've written TONS about that on the forums -- •I• think it's a POLITICAL statement.
SALLY: He means YOU. What are you doing?
The Fool: I'm writing-in Your Bits. THAT way I've got a •complete• transcript of The WHOLE Conversation. Wait until this hits the net. This will explode The Egg forums.
Perfect-10 [on screen]: I've got a COPY of the finished transcript. It's on my autocue.
SALLY: How can you have a copy of the finished transcript? It's still being written.
“For will to be actualized, intent must cross The Abyss. This Abyss takes many forms but here it is the bottomless repository of every unfinished novel, every abandoned plan, every aborted child, every chance not taken -“
I encounter this very problem this afternoon :
WHY is The Abyss •not• available on Blu-Ray?
Nobody seems to know.
....I then spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about the Red Dwarf episode ‘The Inquisitor’ :
(probably worth A Google)
The script says this :
‘A Door opens and the SECOND KRYTEN
and SECOND LISTER walk through.
They are very similar to the first KRYTEN and LISTER, but the SECOND KRYTEN's head is more rounded, and his voice is a little higher pitched.
The SECOND LISTER is dressed similarly,
but he is slightly smaller and has a worse haircut.’
I was just making a blog post about Dan O’Bannon, The Fool in Dark Star, when I saw this -- he casts HIMSELF as The Fool (deeply admirable), so I feel that his testimony is worth repeating, in full (always Trust The Synchronicities) :
[content warning: one mention of a suicide]
.
.
.
The first time I tried doing mag!c, it was my 39th birthday.
Interestingly enough, my *40th* birthday happened to be the day I had my own Abducted By Aliens In Katmandu moment, where-- with the help of the four incredibly powerful edibles my fellow Mortuary Science classmates had gifted me, which I ate all four of in a row, having no idea how they worked-- the world slowed down to individualized comic book panel moments; I made the mistake of peeking between the panels; and I was found by what I can only describe as "the Fae," who would have me still, if it hadn’t been my birthday. They had to let me go, because it was my birthday. There were RULES, I was told.
But, that's a different tale, for a different campfire.
Back to the day of my 39th trip 'round the sun. Two weeks prior, I'd had an acquaintance of mine call me out of the blue, claiming they had a gift for me: their last words-- soon after which, they proceeded to blow away everything above their neck with a shotgun (which, I must say, being on the other end of a phone call like that? Not a fan; zero stars out of five, and I wish I could say that was the last time something like that ever happened around me).
Understandably, I was suddenly *very* mindful of the fact that death could come for us at any time, if we were determined enough. So I had an Idea-- one that managed to cross that Abyss you spoke of. What if I could call upon fictional Pokemon characters as guardian beasts for those closest to me?
I told twelve friends of my intentions, and asked them what their favorite Pokemon was. Receiving three "I'd rather you didn’t"s (fair enough!) and nine different Pokemon as my answers, I went about finding a collectible card game card of that particular Pokemon to stand for that friend in the protection spell I intended to cast.
I won't go into too many details as to how I cast the spell, there on my birthday, as I was playing the whole thing by ear *any*how, but. My friends and I gathered, just them and me, throughout the day; we held up the card representing each of ourselves as Pokemon; I cast their part of the spell over them, pinky-swearing to each other that we'd never kill ourselves in each other's presence; I gave each of them their (laminated, for durability) Pokemon card; told them to keep it safe; the day came to an end; and I rested, inexplicably exhausted.
My own card remains in my fireproof safe. I took this mag!c *very* seriously.
But I never expected to be told the spell had worked. A few times by now, in fact. People with the most analytical minds, who believed in no sort of mystical tomfoolery, told me, over the four years since then, how something or other had driven them to the absolute brink, to where they began to plan How-- and suddenly, the friend felt my Pokemon (an Umbreon) there with them, and they knew they couldn’t go through with what they were about to do, because they'd made a Pokemon promise that they wouldn’t.
I remain all flavors of grateful to have been able to nudge reality in this way, however small. I'm so glad my friends and I exist. ❤️
Very excited for this! I'm currently immersed in reading a series of books by "Denning & Phillips", a pair of occultists with (what seems to me) a very practical take on ceremonial magic. Less didactic than the Golden Dawn, less fond of edginess-for-the-sake-of-it than the Crowley people. But most of my interest in this stuff is due to having read Robert Anton Wilson, Alan Moore, and Grant. The overlap between magic and art is powerful stuff.
being connected to the other side of the abyss at such a young age had some strange consequences for both of us growing up. We both lost loved ones before the age of four, which initiated our own amateur dives into energy work and understanding the metaphysical in our own way. I believe Robert Heinlein called a version of this "grok" but there are other variations of this in Abrahamic and non-Abrahamic traditions too. I hate to lump them like this, but there are important distinctions. Abrahamic influenced traditions prefer order/surrendering one's will over to another spiritually to some extent. (Whether to a spirit or to another human) While non-Abrahamic emphasize the importance of one's own will in some varying capacity. The experiences we had growing up within the realm of human emotion, spirituality, and life itself were perhaps not much different than some people's, but our methods of coping were. Before either of us were in middle school, we both had what science would call heightened peripheral nerves, PTSD, psychosis, you name it. As you call it, we discovered "role playing" in ways that created time-separations. So what else were we to do but find a moment of ourselves through space and time in the books of our lives? One moment that affirmed we could experience this crazy shit with someone who understands these connections and could make sense of them with us. Experiencing life in different lenses, panels, frames, camera-angles-- we became teenagers with too many keys to too many doors. We ended up "meeting" each other about 6 years before we met each other in college under the funniest of coincidences! (--and we dropped out together too. AT LEAST you spared yourself the taste student loan debt!) Call it whatever it is- manifestation, pattern-seeking, fate or some deity being kind- we finally found someone who could understand the fragility of life. Someone to appreciate every moment of this quite nauseating energy exchange we call life with. We became tethers to reality for each other in a way. It's fun to see that even without the formalities that magick usually gets when approached by those we've learned from in recent years, it still works!
////Love Speaks/
/
supernatural experience vs grand psychosis
/
we aren’t the entire meat bag, we really are electrical spitfires and all the leaky emotional baggage too, like vibrations of a song to each their own
looking in all the mirrors until the Goldilocks moment-(maybe this is friend, role model, something more) following the whole breadcrumb trail down the rabbit hole- beyond the ninth layer of hell and looping back up to the top again until the photons compress into orbs that we follow over and over again- the groove forms and splits off into new paths with wild dogs, meat tearing from the bone as they mad dash in oblivion, disappearing and assimilating into atoms- what we know as people //
Luda from the wormhole “I’m not behind you- you’re just in front of me!”//
Slimer — What Did You DO to My BED..???!
I distinctly remember the first time I watched “Morrison at ChaosCon,” and from then on my mind opened. I always believed in the fantastic, in the mystery between spaces; it only needed to be awakened within. Now, I’m a chaos magician and will is my instrument. Thank you for sharing!!
Oh fuck this is so good. And I’m only on page 28 of Luda, but Morrison’s voice is receding and the book is taking on a life of its own.......
For some reason this stuff about the Will reminds me of that bit in Back to the Future when George weakly turns away during the final dance from Marty’s mum (giving up, entropy?), the Will recedes, only to inexplicably come back full-force to reclaim his, and his entire family’s destiny! Does the Will to power equal fascism?
No, Will to Power does •not• Equal Fascism -- it means doing what you SAY you are going to do, and keeping your promises, even though you don’t WANT to.
Generationally, the most important line in Back to The Future, is when Chronus/Doc Brown is SCREAMING into Horus/Marty’s face : “NO! I •REFUSE• TO ACCEPT THE RESPONSIBILITY..!!! THE CONSEQUENCES COULD BE DISASTROUS..!!”
The Queen of Heaven : People, I mean friends on My Husband's side - were indicating that I was again unstable, sick, and should be put in a home of some sort in order to ‘get better’.
I was almost an embarrassment.
Q. : Do you think he •really• thought that?
The Queen of Heaven : Well, there's no better way to dismantle A Personality than to isolate it.
See The Image of Fendahl for a discussion of K•9’s pronouns -- if he’s dying, he’s an It.
If he can be Saved, if he’s in Recovery,
and can get better, he’s a Him :
Tom : K•9. Yes. I'd better finish repairing Him.
LEELA: Ah! You called him ‘Him’. You called him ‘Him’!
Tom: I can call K•9 ‘Him’ if I •want• to ! --
He's MY Dog -- Aren't you, K9?
(K9's head moves up and down, squeaking.)
Perfect-10 [on screen]: Well, I CAN hear you.
SALLY: This isn't possible.
The Fool : No. It's brilliant!
Perfect-10 [on screen]: Well, not •hear• you, exactly, but I KNOW •everything• you're going to say.
The Fool: Always gives me the shivers, that bit.
SALLY: •How• can you know what I'm going to say?
Perfect-10 [on screen]: Look to Your Left.
(Where Larry is sitting on the floor, writing.)
The Fool : What does he •mean• by ‘look to your left’? I've written TONS about that on the forums -- •I• think it's a POLITICAL statement.
SALLY: He means YOU. What are you doing?
The Fool: I'm writing-in Your Bits. THAT way I've got a •complete• transcript of The WHOLE Conversation. Wait until this hits the net. This will explode The Egg forums.
Perfect-10 [on screen]: I've got a COPY of the finished transcript. It's on my autocue.
SALLY: How can you have a copy of the finished transcript? It's still being written.
Perfect-10 [on screen]: I told you --
I'm a time traveller.
I got it in The Future.
“For will to be actualized, intent must cross The Abyss. This Abyss takes many forms but here it is the bottomless repository of every unfinished novel, every abandoned plan, every aborted child, every chance not taken -“
I encounter this very problem this afternoon :
WHY is The Abyss •not• available on Blu-Ray?
Nobody seems to know.
....I then spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about the Red Dwarf episode ‘The Inquisitor’ :
(probably worth A Google)
The script says this :
‘A Door opens and the SECOND KRYTEN
and SECOND LISTER walk through.
They are very similar to the first KRYTEN and LISTER, but the SECOND KRYTEN's head is more rounded, and his voice is a little higher pitched.
The SECOND LISTER is dressed similarly,
but he is slightly smaller and has a worse haircut.’
P.S. : The Fool on The Ghost Train is Tommy Gander (Arthur Askey).
I was just making a blog post about Dan O’Bannon, The Fool in Dark Star, when I saw this -- he casts HIMSELF as The Fool (deeply admirable), so I feel that his testimony is worth repeating, in full (always Trust The Synchronicities) :
The Fool,Dan O'Bannon :
This Statement is for Posterity.
I just want to say that
I am not Sergeant Pinback.
My real name is Bill Froog and
I'm a Fuel Maintenance Technician.
I've been on this mission now
for 1 year and 3 months.
Pinback's uniforms do not fit me.
The underwear is too loose.
I do not belong on This Mission
and I want to return to Earth.
Commander Powell died today.
We were, we were going into hyper-drive.
And... well he sits right next to me and...
well... something went wrong with the...
When we came out of hyper-drive his seat mechanism
had blown up and he was dead.
Doolittle says he's assuming command
of This Ship and I say that's...
I say that he's exceeding His Authority.
Because I'm the only one with
any objectivity on This Ship
and I should be the one
to assume command!
I'm filing a report on this to Headquarters,
this is a lot of --
I went up to Doolittle in the hall today.
And I said... 'Doolittle.
He said...
And I said, Well...
And he didn't get it!
This Mission has fallen apart
since Commander Powell died!
Doolittle treats me like An Idiot!
Talby thinks he's so smart.
And Boiler punches me in the arm
when no one is looking!
I'm tired of being treated like an old washrag!
I do not like the men on this space ship.
They are uncouth and fail to
appreciate my better qualities.
I have something of value to contribute
to This Mission if they would only recognize it.
Today over lunch I tried to improve moral
and build a sense of comradery among The Men
by holding a humorous round robin discussion
of the early days of The Mission.
My overtures were brutally rejected.
These men do not want A Happy Ship.
They are deeply sick and try to compensate
by making me feel miserable.
Last week was My Birthday.
Nobody even said Happy Birthday to me.
Someday this tape will be played
and then they'll feel sorry.
“Children of 5 are Developmentally UNABLE
to see Perspective,
While Children of 7 CAN. “
•GOOD Sentence•, that.
....because it’s The Captain Marvel of Earth-FIVE,
and he FORGETS unsetting and distressing things he cannot change when he is exposed to them --
as any King SHOULD.
This is The Wisdom of Solomon.