Once in a while, I stumble upon something really awesome in this occult stuff that changes my world. The Planetary Gates series I’ve been writing has been one of those experiments. Drawing down the powers of the spheres, focusing them into my “kingdom,” taking responsibility for and authority over the things in my life that I needed to has been an incredible process.

The last couple of weeks, I’ve been in the manifestation phase, where all the work I’ve done up Above gets hammered into place here Below. It’s the process of integrating and manifesting the powers from the heavenly spheres. So I’ve been busy, and I haven’t had a lot of left over bandwidth to write blog posts.

On the plus side, I have started my rose bush garden in my back yard, I’ve hauled away two truck loads of useless junk in my garage, and I’ve taken major strides towards achieving fiscal responsibility. You know all those little pieces of paper you’re supposed to keep track of? Filing them away really does help you out a lot. In large, financial ways. And failing to file them away properly in the moment means that later on, when there are three or four piles of envelopes to go through looking for a tax paper you should have filed, there will be heck to pay. Hoo. Ha. Heck, I tell you.

Kingdom management, man. It’s good to be the king… most of the time. When you’ve improperly managed the kingdom, the subjects rise up in revolt, and it’s your neck on the chopping block. And your best friend will be holding the axe. And you’ll deserve it!

Name:

Spasmodius.

Rank:

Marquis

Serves under Elemental Prince:

Paymon

Attributes:

Can totally make you feel all insecure and nervous, makes you laugh a little too loud at social gatherings when you think you’ve said something witty, but also makes you aware that everyone is just sort of looking at you and trying to think of a way to go get something to drink or eat or somefuckingthing to get the hell away from you before anyone thinks you’re together.

Also responsible for whipping up political paroxysms among bleeding heart liberals and their mouth-breathing inbred white tea bagger mortal enemies over such trivialities as sexual preference or the relative amount of melanin in someone’s dermis and the impact that has on their right to answer the call of God in their lives as they see fit.

Indications of the presence of Spasmodius: gross insecurity, infectious drama queenery, increased caffeine intake, fervent postings on Facebook of political articles hyperbolizing the issues to increase their own sales, head-for-the-hills-the-sky-is-falling advice presented in intelligent and even-tempered, but maniacally persistent discourse, or the posting of five or more blog posts of more than five paragraphs each on a given topic within three days.

Seal:

Banishing rites:

Spasmodius cannot abide the forces of the sphere of Saturn. Something about a vision of eternity and the beginnings and endings of all things just seems to snap things into perspective, robbing him of his ability to create anxiety, angst, or low-level fear and paranoia over STUPID-ASS BULLSHIT.

On the cover of Jason Miller’s Protection and Reversal Magick, it says the book is part of the “Beyond 101” series of books they offer at New Page. I love that phrase. I like to think I write at that level. I figure if you’re reading this blog and keeping up, you’ve been through all the intro stuff a few times and you’ve got some basic definitions that don’t need to be reiterated.

As a result of this approach, I’ve gathered a readership of really intelligent, experienced, and gifted magicians. That was why I started blogging in the first place, and I’ve totally succeeded.

Me FTW!

Yeah, that’s all I’ve got to say right now. See, I’m cutting down on my nicotine consumption at the moment, and I really want to just rip someone’s fucking head off for sport. So I’m thinking about nice things. Good things. My smart readers. My practicing magician friends who get the Work, and mold their theories on observation instead of the other way around. Not the idiot. Not thinking about him. Nope. Not that other one either. Breathing… breathing… Ahhh… peace. Acid Peace. Peace that travels up the spine like jagged lightning spikes, herkin’ left, jerkin’ right. Highly energized frenetic peace that just wants to beat something’s face in because it’s just that time already…

fuck it. quitters never win.

Mom, I hope you don’t read this blog, because I know you would be sure as shit convinced I’m going straight to hell. I’m not, I promise, but I know you worry. Don’t. Jesus’ blood was sufficient for my sins too.

I’m reading some friends’ posts about mom’s day, and I just wanted to tell you, you rock. And thanks. For everything.

The archaic language of the grimoires or Agrippa or something like the Hieroglyphic Monad seems to be easier to process if I picture it being read by James Earl Jones as Darth Vader, with the respirator sound effects in the background and everything.

Don’t do a ritual for wealth and health and expansion on a Thursday and then take a day off on Friday. I did, and I’ve got a bajillion orders to take care of.

Still, I needed that day off. I wrote no Gate, I conjured no spirit, I did not go to work, nor check email, nor facebook. Much.* The only vaguely work related thing I had to do was some paperwork. Other than that, baseball. Good times.

Now, back to Work.

*Just enough to keep off the DTs.

I’ve been doing a lot of divinations for people lately. Consult this, business that, job this, hex that, and I’ve seen it there in every divination I’ve done:

Keep your tray in the upright position, place your head between your knees, and kiss your ass goodbye, because the plane’s going DOWN, motherfucker, in flames!

Ok, not really. The real message I keep getting across the board for everyone in whatever situation they might be in is this:

Eventually, things improve.

The boss that’s riding your ass and making your life hell goes away and you get a raise and things get better at work. The relationship issues that have you ready to kill your SO or yourself eventually fade away, you get over the pain, and you find pleasure in a different aspect of the relationship, and… things get better. The financial crisis hurts like a bitch, and then you get a job, and things get better. The curse is lifted and things get better. Your dog dies, you grieve, and then things get better.

Things always get better, folks. Eventually. It sucks to go through the shit times, but they’re temporary. They aren’t going to kill you, and even if they do, you’ll survive in some fashion. If you’ve done the GREAT WORK you’ll survive as a Power, and if you haven’t you’ll survive as a turnip or a cabbage or something. A happy one*.

Just do what you need to do to put out the fires in your life, and be patient. No matter how bad things are, matters will improve, eventually.

Keep your head.

Don’t panic.

Breathe.

Assess the situation, plan your resolution, execute the plan, and reap the results. You’ll see. Things get better.

* I have it on good authority that cabbages spend most of their existence in happiness, except for the part where they’re stir fried and served steaming over rice towards the end there, but hey, nothing’s perfect

I now have:

• Florida
• Texas
• California
• Maine
• Washington State

I still need:

• Montana or North Dakota
• Nebraska