Archive for the ‘About Me’ Category

My Mystical Studies

Now as anyone, who knows even a little of me, knows I’m very methodical, clinical, and logical. (Though some would debate the logical part of my claim, referencing the fact that I am not an atheist. To that I say, “I am logical, just neither short-sighted nor pompous in my attributions of laws of science nor confining myself to said mere laws which are incomplete in scope. We still haven’t solved M-Theory, now have we. There are many things which modern science cannot explain and, which to any truly rational person, cannot be denied. Exhibit: Yale’s experiments on the Effects of The Observer on it’s environment.) As such, I’ve been and will continue to be very thorough in my studies & investigations regarding magic and matters of the occult.
 I have treated my current studies as occupational, though with a zeal and hunger I give none save my fetishes. 

    In other words, I am reading a shit load! 

    Here is a list of the Books I have read since the end of November: 

6Th & 7th Books of Moses
8Th Book of Moses
The Golden Tractate of Hermes Trismegistus
Theurgia Goetia
Ars Almadel
Ars Paulina
The Key of Solomon
Golden Dawn – The Supreme Invoking Ritual of the Pentagram
The Grand Grimoire
The Grimoire of Armadel
The Grimoire of Honorius
The Grimoire of Turiel
Grimoirum Verum
Herbs And Their Magickal Properties
Dr. Johannes Faust’s Threefold Coercion of Hell (a.k.a. The Black Raven)
Libellus Jesuitus
The Emerald Tablet of Hermes
Sepher Raziel
The Grand Grimoire (Pratt’s Version)
The Sword of Moses
The Black Pullett
The Twelve Keys of Basil Valentine
The 49 Enochian Calls by David Griffin
Golden Dawn Enochian magic by Pat Zalewski
The Nature of the Enochian Magickal System by Benjamin Rowe
Liber 58
Liber 777
Liber Samekh Hé
Lives of the Necromancers (Uses the term improperly)
Liber Satangelica
John Dee and the Magic Tables in the Book of Soyga by Jim Reeds
Summoning Spirits by Konstantinos
The Testament of Solomon
The Enochian Tablets by Aleister Crowley.
Enochian Linguistic
A Treatise on Elemental and Talismanic Magick
Paracelsus, Scrying, and The Lingua Adamica 

                                      …I think that was all.
                                         …I read…a lot. 

Communing with the Spirits by Martin Coleman (I forgot one.) 

(I also started reading the Dead Sea Scrolls. If anyone’s interested.) 

Thesis thus far: 

    Waite is sloppy and lazy. He gives more errors than effort.
    Crowley is notable being the counterbalance to Waite’s errors, but applies Jung’s outdated Pseudo-psychology to local gods. Jung was an idiot. So by association, that makes Crowley one as well.
    Dee is most curious. He is extremely varied in his studies. Knowing Kelley was a con man, he still used him as a tool. This leads me towards two options: He is either a genius or a fool. By his ability to work out the most complicated algorithms seen in squares and add to them means I am inclined towards the former.
    Konstantinos by far I respect the most if only by his clear forthright manner. He makes no attempt to dissuade through boring or “enlightened” prose. Above all, he is concise. He describes exercises which are themselves forms of thought focus.


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The Laws of Demons

There are many types of people. Most of them are worthless vile creatures. I hate most people, because people…People are worth hating.
 I feel trapped -everyday- by a world of liars, of spineless, brainless demons. Willing to hurt those around them for self-preservation, for nothing more than the ability to be lazy. Safe in Sloth by erring on the side of ass kissing. Time and time again, I find that the people in higher positions, whether my boss or “My” president, they are worthless offal. Everyday, I am struck, wounded by the knowledge that it is not ability to perform a task, but the ability to accept being face-fucked by ‘superiors’ which lets someone advance to these higher positions.
 And when these bastard vermin attain their coveted higher position they, like the vermin they replace, revel in their ability to force others to do their work whilst they themselves do nothing but drink coffee and sit on their ass. They still expect others to work, follow all rules, and they use those rules (twist them) to harass those that do not act as they once did.
 I, I don’t take kindly to those who attempt to exploit me. I do my job. I expect those, whether above or below me, to do the EXACT same. But, not these blighters. “Do as I say, not as I do.” They wear such a motto. It is the maxim of the legion carrion.
“It’s not my job.” I’ve heard so many times, askewed to imply that despite the fact that one may be able to provide assistance for someone who deserves it by their need, they would err on the side of laziness and worthlessness. Far be it for them to extend their hand in needed help for another less fortunate, for someone working hard who could use the help. Because they gain nothing themselves, only work. How sad, this world has become ruled by demons. This is but one of the reasons my blog in entitled, Apocalypse 18:2.
 Apocalypse means “to reveal”. But you might better know this word by its english counterpart, Revelation. Revelation 18:2 speaks volumes of  the current world, “Fallen, fallen is the city of Babylon. For it has become a dwelling place of demons.”
 That is what the world has become. Made vile by The Vile Spawn of Satan. Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Vanity, Pride, Lust, Gluttony.
 Honor, Honesty, Piety, Altruism, Moderation. These things are distained in this world. This world claims a love of Heroes, but promotes only Villains. How ill this world has become.
 I am possessed of extreme intelligence. Possessed by Honor, Honesty, Piety, Altruism, and Moderation, I am a nobleman. But I am of sin as well. Wrath is my vice. I don’t presume that I am perfect. Or even worthy of praise. I despise my mistakes. My Wrath has made me harm someone so severely that I fear myself. I must perpetually control my urges to smite those who offend me. In my youth my fists delivered swift vengeance for minimal trespasses. Now I must use words first. And cafefully worded, they must be. Because, in America, saying something like, “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to hurt you,” is no different than a quick hammer blow to a person’s ribs shattering their side and stopping their speech. Both are assault. Their only difference is in degree. Meer words can put you in jail. But the words of the one who caused such anger is free of reprisal. When did the world become so fucked up. A person my belittle another until they are so enraged they act upon the urge to make it stop. These same harassing words cause our lessers to commit suicide. So why is that not a crime as well. What is worse, is the fact that a person who fails at committing suicide can be convicted of “Attempted Suicide”. How novelly contemptuous, further ostracize those who have been so ostracized they wish to cease living. Such brilliant cruelty. The Laws of Demons.

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The Necromancer’s Tarot:

The Tarot of The Crossroads
      I have named this tarot, “The Tarot of The Crossroads,” because it shows you different aspects of the future, not the future itself. This tarot may be used in two ways: You may ask a question or ask about the future. Either way, they both proceeded in the same manner. The explanation of how to read the tarot will follow the process of how to perform the steps before reading.

      1.) As the reader, shuffle your deck until it tells you to stop. I imply here the deck expresses to you enough time has passed. Sometimes you may not need to shuffle the deck at all.
      2.) Cut the facedown deck into thirds. They need not be equal in height.
      3.) Cut each stack again. You should now have six stacks of cards.
      4.) Restack the deck in what ever order you desire.
      5.) Knock on the deck three times. It does note matter if you pick up the deck before or after you do this. The effect is unchanged.
 6.) Hand the deck to the person you are doing the reading for. They must shuffle the deck three times, then they must perform steps 2-6 as well. After they are done reclaim the deck and knock three times on the deck once more.
      7.) Whether you hold the deck or seat the deck, the deck must be drawn from the right side of your person with the left hand.
      8.) The cards are to be laid out in this order. Do not focus on the cards only where they go, or your hand will err and betray your goal. You may not wish to look directly at the cards as they are drawn for this reason.


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The Vigil of Doors

     I have Knocked. She has Answered. Now, He stirs. Waiting from me. I have tread these years of my life as a path. It was chosen by God. He has been there. Always. Driving me towards something, ever gently, ever so patiently. Watching me. Proving it to me. And, all the time, waiting.
 What follows in these further lines is not fantasy, not some avant-garde zeitgeist, it is an affliction. This is the tale of a boy who became a man who has lived too long without making his Choice. Now, The Choice has grown impatient. It whispers like a dragon and follows him like a giant, trembling his steps. As he faces the Metatron, he asks, “Who are you?” The Metatron replies…
      “What you have ignored. Now, you must acknowledge me. For I am your voice. And now…You Must Speak. You are the wayfarer. I am your boat, your clothes, you breath, your shoes. I was the wind upon your back. But now I am a hurricane. Move, or I shall move you. Walk, or I shall drag you. Eat of The Fruit by choice and be made whole, or I will make you eat the earth by force and you will be made naught.”
     “Your poltergeist. You, The Drop; I, The Wave; He, The Ocean. We are Water. We are The Same.”
 I know now, her answer did not wake him. It woke me. He has been following me for days…A third of Me, A third of Him.

       I was borne unto a family who has seen ghosts and heard God. My great grandmother spoke to them. My grandmother has heard angels & God. My aunts have hid in their rooms from your family’s ghosts. The family that lived there after knew about the spirits. Me, I’ve seen ghosts since I was young and began getting premonitions in the ninth grade. And I have heard the Metatron and God.
      You can choose not to believe me, because you don’t know me. Those who have, know better.
      I wished I was normal. I wished The Dead would leave me alone. But now, I have made The Choice to Work the Deadtime. If I must be the wayfarer of lost souls, a Shinigami, to unload these bricks from my back, I will. I will use these sundered, blackened wings to this end. I when they reconstitute I will finally be whole again, reborn by fire as a six winged Grigori. I must remember I deserve to fly. That I was destined to soar.
     Years ago, my friend had a tarot deck. Missing one card, it had a spare of another. To him it was I pastime. He lost interest in the deck when they were no longer new. I having never liked such things (and I still don’t) was attracted to the deck. It’s artwork compelled me to ask for it. He gave it to me without a second thought.
      I never did a tarot reading, until I was asked to for fun. Despite knowing nothing, I watched my friends do theirs. How they read the cards, to me felt wrong. I felt them crawl away them. My friends spoke lies, the cards resonated to me.
 When it was my turn, I did everything differently. I could not remember how they did any if it. I had been too focused on the cards. My friends said my layout was ‘unique’. That my interpretations were ‘not what the cards mean’. All the while, the cards were like a vapor to me. The longer I stared at them, the more the vapors opened pathways in my mind, inclining me to speak one way more than the other, choose one word for another. In the end, we laughed it all off.
      My readings are uncanny and gravely true. My readings do not tell the future. They show obstacles, choices, and the results of choosing one path over another. 
      I told one person three jobs will call you. Take the job that pays the least you will be happier. You will have to move and it will be hard for the first six months but then a new job will open for you and you will make more money than the current better choice will offer. In three months, you will run into a past man who you now know and if you choose him you will suffer. Leave him be or the job will not be there when you need it.
       What really happened?
       She chose the cheap job moved to Pittsburgh and lived in a shitty apartment scraping by. In exactly three months after she moved she was at a club and ran into her schizophrenic ex-boyfriend. She ignored him and he left angry. She didn’t want to, she said. She didn’t like hurting him like that, and she still loved him. But she listened to me. Two weeks later, he stopped taking his medication and pulled a gun on his father, then tried to commit suicide. She later got a job that offered her three times as much as she made living here.
      She still has like $700 dollars worth of my movies. That fucking bitch. She “lost” them. Karma will catch her eventually.
      Another reading I did, I told a girl, in two weeks you will meet a ‘nice guy’. “Don’t fuck him,” I said, “If you do, he’ll never talk to you again.” I told her to wait and in three months you will meet a guy who is even better and you will have a long happy relationship. She asked me if it would last. I said I can only read ‘til a year from now, but it would at least last that long.
      What happened?
       She meet a guy two weeks later at a party. She got drunk and fucked him. He blocked her number. Three months later she met this “really great guy”. They went to a party just after they met and she realized he was best friends with the guy she had fucked! He said he doesn’t date beer sluts. And she kept wanting me to give her a reading every time she came to my house! Can you say greedy?
      The curiosity of my tarot pattern goaded me until I drew it and sent the picture to someone I could not call less than a sensei or sage. “It fascinates me,” she said. She told me it resembles a thing called a “veve of Legba”, which is seems to match the word “Sigil,” in my lexicon. This sigil allows spirits of The Dead to speak to me through it.
     That is what made me give up my resistance. It seems even my “parlor trick” was Workin’ The Dead. So now I admit it. I was born to be a Necromancer. Apparently, I am some type of prodigious sorcerer. Not rare, but not common.
      It seems some of the things I can do are rarer than others. I can collapse the layers to make it impossible for lesser spirits to enter an area. I can do it as long as I want, or until I have to sleep. It doesn’t work on anchored souls. I’m doubting it would work on The Unborn. This closes Hellesponts, (“Gateways”, or whatever you want to call them) as well. This, by the way, draws ghosts like moths to a bonfire. Not cool.
     I can push ghosts away from me. I can prevent them from touching me and do the same for those that stand near me. This actually requires a lot of energy. It gives me migraines, makes my heart race, and my lungs burn. Sometimes it gives me vertigo for a moment or two.
      Truthfully, most of the time, ghosts can’t touch me anyway. And sometimes, it seems to hurt them and leave me feeling invigorated. Don’t get that one at all. But I can never tell, one way or the other, what will happen. So, I ignore ghosts so they don’t try. (Most ghosts can’t see you. But if you can see them, they can sense something is wrong and start looking around. If you make eye contact they know you see them. They get really pissed off, or upset, that I can’t hear them. Poor bastards. The only person that can see them, is deaf, from their standpoint.)

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Some of My Memories of Germany

When I was a kid I lived in Germany, just outside of Frankfurt, I think. Since My dad was in the army me and my mother used to pal around together. We would go visit all of Ludwig’s Castles. We ended up seeing all but one. It was in the middle of a lake and the ferry only took you there at 8 am and didn’t bring you back until 8 pm. So, we said screw that! It might be fun to go to castles and tour around but 12 hours. You gotta shittin’ me. No way in hell.
     I remember little of that time. My memories of my personal life are few and far between. I think my brain replaces that stuff with facts. It’s like the more stuff I learn the more of my life I forget.
     Anyways, My memories. I remember this snitzel vender, with his little cart, would be on the corner every Sunday during the winter. It would waft in the apartment and we’d always give in and go down to get some. My favorite was his wiener snitzel. Now I don’t really care too much for snitzel because germans cover it in this nasty tasting brown gravy shit. But his, his was awesome! Fresh and gravy free. I mean you could get some but he didn’t slather it on unless you asked. I always put ketchup on them and damn if they weren’t just about the best tasting things on the planet.
     It’s true what they say about american food being so bland and/or sweet. Here in america, people don’t know how to make things taste good, plus you have to accommodate for all the different cultures who came here and don’t want to have some ethnic food. So, in the end, american food ends up being shitty and bland.
     I hate american cakes. They are so sweet, that when I a piece at a party, I flip it over. I just eat the cake not the icing. I love sugar but icing is nasty. All sugar and lard. Gross!!! The best cake in the world is Black Forest Cake. It comes from the Black Forest region of Germany and, let me tell you, “Dat shit’s da bomb! Fo real, cuz.” It made with a cherry liqueur and much less sugar. The icing is a dark chocolate with only a little sugar. The flavor is so pronounced and extravagant, it’s like you end up thinking, “I’ve never had a cake before this moment!” I’ve made Black Forest Cake here in the States, a few times, but you can’t get the same  flavor out of the cake. It’s because the liqueur you’re supposed to use is aged as a pulp and extracted for use later. The US stuff is made like wine then they add sugar to thicken it! But mine is still uber good, nonetheless. My friends who have tasted it loved it. And just to give you a hint on how awesome this cake is: I hate chocolate! If chocolate vanished off the face of the earth except for in Black Forest cake,  Mayan Hot Chocolate, & Black Russians, I’d be happy.
     Aniseplatzchen is my favorite cookie. Also german and not super sweet, these cookies I’d always have to wait ‘til Christmas to find in the stores. Man was that a pain! It was so hard to wait a whole year after New Year’s to find these cookies again. These cookie are definitely not for americans. They have their own unique taste. Nothing tastes even close to them. Hence, I can’t really describe them to you, but if you like black licorice, these are sorta like that, but good and not nearly as strong. Think like a “manly” version of gingerbread, or something.
     I remember going from East to West and back all the time, too. There were men with guns (M-16s and AK-47s) on both sides. Sometimes they would stop you, but most of the time they just waved you through. A few months after I left The Wall was torn down. I was so pissed I couldn’t have taken a piece of it with me. Dr. Seuss died that year too, I think. Or somewhere around that time.
     Life has such a sad way of changing on you, as you age. You know. Like The house I grew up in all through 5th grade & junior high  and my aunt’s house who lived next to us got torn down. It’s now a parking lot! An UNUSED parking lot! Sometimes, I’ll have to drive down that street and it’s like going home, but then I get to where my house should be and it gone! It’s like if someone tells you they got you an Ipod or something that’s actually cool for Christmas and then, you open it and it’s a sweater. It kinda sad, driving down that road, I mean.
     Oh, and Oktoberfest and The Nutcracker Festival are kick ass! Let me tell you drunk germans are funny. They’re all singing and laughing, just happy, you know. Americans, on the other hand, get obnoxious. They either piss people off and a brawl starts or they start the fight themselves. I watched this drunk punk college kid walk over to this couple in their thirties, who were obviously married. He wraps his arm around this woman, kisses her cheek, and says something like, “Get rid of the loser and (blah, blah, blah, etc.,.)” Needless to say, the bastard got knocked out cold, his friends tried to beat up the husband, and me & my friends broke it up before they could really hurt him. That’s america. But germany, those guys are having fun and it was fun to just watch them. (I was a little kid, so that’s about all I could do.)
     The Nutcracker Fest is so cool they had these 20 ft. tall, real working, nutcrackers! Some you were actually allowed to use. And there were so many. The one year there were over 200! The road was lined wit them. It was like being in some kid’s movie or a fantasy land or like on a real life Candyland adventure!
     America has nothing, culturally, that compares to germany. Sad to say, but true.

     I went to a Concentration Camp, too. I really don’t want to end this on a sour note but I have to talk about this. Going there, seeing those bunks, those showers, those furnaces, it’s so heartbreakingly sad. To ever think that that happened, such cruelty happened, is just sad. I know “sad” is a pathetic tiny word to use, but nothing else comes to mind. Even now my eyes swell up with tears. Americans are so quick to make the german people into monsters for WWII. But, the truth is worse for them. They put a guy in office and he took away their rights. He made the whole country his slaves. If you didn’t like it you were killed. Sometimes, people were beaten or even killed for not saluting properly (or for long enough) to the Nazi Party Members. He terrorized the whole country, Hitler & and his Reich. He was a terrible plague upon the german people, but even with him gone americans still look at germans of that time as if every one of them were Nazi supporters, as if every german said, “kill those jude.” How sad. And how very wrong. I feel a great sympathy for them. I know why they wanted the jews gone, and they were right to, but they didn’t know how Hitler was going to do it (even while it was happening for the first few years) and they didn’t know at what cost their salvation would come. He was supposed to bring them out of debt and rebuild what was lost after WWI but instead he caused WWII. They never wanted that. They wanted the autobahn and they wanted their businesses, houses, integrity, and hope back. They wanted a spiritual, emotional, and physical peace.
     I’m so glad they have that now. They were once a great, strong, proud, unconquerable people. Now, they are once again.

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Nearly every friend I have has at one point or another pissed me off with this: inviting or just bringing someone either into a private event or have just brought them over. Does anyone else go, “What the fuck,” when this happens, or is it just me? I’d say it’s my generation, but my friend Sean is 40 and he brought this chick to D&D once. Etiquette, oh, wherefore out thou?
 Manners. Manners. Manners. Why do my friends bring their “shiny new pussy” to my house? That’s what it is. They see some chick that might have sex with them (or did) and they feel the need to bring these things along with them to a private event, AT MY HOUSE!!! All I can think is, “Look dude. I don’t care. I don’t want that new toy sucking up my oxygen.” I don’t invite people to other people’s houses. If I had to bring some girl I ask first. And not in a pushy way either, it’s like, “Hey dude. My girlfriend wanted to come over, too. Is that cool? It’s okay if it’s not. I’d understand ‘cause it’s like supposed to be just us guys, an’ shit.” How hard is that really?
 Instead, I get shit like this, “The girl I hung out with is cool as hell…she is also coming to D&D, but she wants a girl to hang out with…So, please try to have Emily keep her company, if you can. Thanks.”
 Are you shitting me? First of all, Emily does this thing called, WORK. Secondly, why the hell would she want to hang out with some random girl? Third, Did I at some point say bring this chick over? Ahhh…NO. Fourth, When the fuck did I start taking orders? And fifth, D&D is on Sunday, from 4pm ‘til 10pm. That leaves the other 160 hours in the week to ‘hang out’ with this chick, so don’t bring her to my house and fuck up my game! No chick wants to watch a guy play D&D. IT’S THE DORKIEST GAME IN THE WORLD!!! Well, right after Vampire. No “normal” girl should want to be within a mile of a gaming session. If she does, is either has no idea what D&D is, or is a super dork and it’s time to ditch that chick and ruuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnn. Run fast!
 Why do they do this to me? Are they that desperate? Really?

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 My favorite holiday is back again. I love Halloween. It is the only holiday I really celebrate. Screw Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, they are just times people spend times with their families. BORING. Plus I really have little in common with mine. The exceptions are my aunt, Fran, who listens to the same alternative music as me, and my grandma, who loves to talk about anything interesting. (And I don’t mean gossip.)  
But, Halloween is all about you. Hedonistic and, in a way, freeing. You can recapture your youth on Halloween as no other day in the entire year. You can be as weird or as normal as you want and everyone will like it. What would you say to a guy dressed up as a nun on any other day of the year.  
Here’s some pictures of me and my friends at a Halloween contest on a karaoke night. Two of my favorite things in one! 



This is Me!!!



  From Left to Right: Sean, Doug, Tex, & Me
At first I went for the Boogie Man. Then After I got 3rd Place, I took off the mask and was a swashbuckling pirate’s ghost.
God, I love this fucking holiday!
Bite me, Santa.


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