Category: Blogspot Archive

Category: Blogspot Archive

  • Mess with the bull…

    I swear to god, I’m sick of the ones that are convinced that they are ready, able, and willing to do the Work, but on their terms.

    IF you are redefining a system of Conjuration revealed to magicians in the 15th century, AND IF you have NEVER conjured any of the spirits from said system using the system as defined, not even to the best of your abilities:

    Your Work is a Work of PRIDE. You’re off your rocker. Get a clue.

    IF you are redefining a system of Initation and Attainment developed in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, yet have NEVER been initiated into either the line you’re “reforming” or its offshoot that rhymes with BoTeeOh, THEN you too are full of shit.

    If in order for you to begin to explain the merits of your system, you must first make up lies about initiations into ceremonies that you have not participated in, your system is worthless.

    But not only that, you fucking idiot, you’ve put yourself in the running with people who actually know what they’re doing. You think Crowley’s sitting in the City of Pyramids next to Christ and Buddha, and now all of a sudden he’s beyond sending the Spirit of the Planet Mercury to confound and conflagrat you? Bullshit! He’s got a better line with him.

    If any of this shit above describes you, you’re nothing but a bald monkey jumping in the middle of a stampede. And I’d like to take a moment to remind bald monkeys what the fuck happens when you fucking jump in the middle of a fucking stampede. See below. And if you’re interrupting magicians that have a couple tons of momentum behind them barreling their way towards a goal you can’t imagine, expect at LEAST what this guy got as you’re tossed to the side.

  • Mess with the bull…

    I swear to god, I’m sick of the ones that are convinced that they are ready, able, and willing to do the Work, but on their terms.

    IF you are redefining a system of Conjuration revealed to magicians in the 15th century, AND IF you have NEVER conjured any of the spirits from said system using the system as defined, not even to the best of your abilities:

    Your Work is a Work of PRIDE. You’re off your rocker. Get a clue.

    IF you are redefining a system of Initation and Attainment developed in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, yet have NEVER been initiated into either the line you’re “reforming” or its offshoot that rhymes with BoTeeOh, THEN you too are full of shit.

    If in order for you to begin to explain the merits of your system, you must first make up lies about initiations into ceremonies that you have not participated in, your system is worthless.

    But not only that, you fucking idiot, you’ve put yourself in the running with people who actually know what they’re doing. You think Crowley’s sitting in the City of Pyramids next to Christ and Buddha, and now all of a sudden he’s beyond sending the Spirit of the Planet Mercury to confound and conflagrat you? Bullshit! He’s got a better line with him.

    If any of this shit above describes you, you’re nothing but a bald monkey jumping in the middle of a stampede. And I’d like to take a moment to remind bald monkeys what the fuck happens when you fucking jump in the middle of a fucking stampede. See below. And if you’re interrupting magicians that have a couple tons of momentum behind them barreling their way towards a goal you can’t imagine, expect at LEAST what this guy got as you’re tossed to the side.

  • Mess with the bull…

    I swear to god, I’m sick of the ones that are convinced that they are ready, able, and willing to do the Work, but on their terms.

    IF you are redefining a system of Conjuration revealed to magicians in the 15th century, AND IF you have NEVER conjured any of the spirits from said system using the system as defined, not even to the best of your abilities:

    Your Work is a Work of PRIDE. You’re off your rocker. Get a clue.

    IF you are redefining a system of Initation and Attainment developed in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, yet have NEVER been initiated into either the line you’re “reforming” or its offshoot that rhymes with BoTeeOh, THEN you too are full of shit.

    If in order for you to begin to explain the merits of your system, you must first make up lies about initiations into ceremonies that you have not participated in, your system is worthless.

    But not only that, you fucking idiot, you’ve put yourself in the running with people who actually know what they’re doing. You think Crowley’s sitting in the City of Pyramids next to Christ and Buddha, and now all of a sudden he’s beyond sending the Spirit of the Planet Mercury to confound and conflagrat you? Bullshit! He’s got a better line with him.

    If any of this shit above describes you, you’re nothing but a bald monkey jumping in the middle of a stampede. And I’d like to take a moment to remind bald monkeys what the fuck happens when you fucking jump in the middle of a fucking stampede. See below. And if you’re interrupting magicians that have a couple tons of momentum behind them barreling their way towards a goal you can’t imagine, expect at LEAST what this guy got as you’re tossed to the side.

  • A Week-Long Walk

    Ahh, the waxing moon. Maybe I’m just superstitious, I don’t know, but I certainly do feel better in general. With Mercury going Direct in the same week, I feel pretty good about things in general.

    This week, I plan to work with each of the archangels of the planets in their appropriate hour on their appropriate day. The goal is to achieve better balance and integration of the energies of the spheres. I’ve spent the last month or so obsessing with Jupiter and its denizens in the different worlds, and I got to a point where everything I saw was related to money. I’m pretty sure my pupils had become dollar signs.

    Many thanks to the people who have pointed this annoying trait out to me. The point of my work is to head towards the Red Work after all. So to get myself back on track, I’ve embarked on this particular course of action. I began Friday with a discussion with my HGA, and then last night worked with Tzaphkiel to integrate the energies of Saturn into my sphere. Later today I’ll be working with Michael to integrate the energies of the Sun.

    This week, expect to see posts of the results of my Works.

  • Ohhhhh, the Drrraaaammmmaaaa

    Oh, for Christ’s sake.

    Remember dude I mentioned that wanted to be a Moonchild? I got that all wrong. He corrected me. Seems they weren’t trying to be Moonchildren at all. Oh no, nothing so puerile, he assured me. No, these two geniuses were trying to start the Apocalypse!!! The end of the WORLD!!! For Serious.

    Because, you know, they were bored.

    Wait for it…

    Wait for it….

    Give me a fucking break! “I’m bored, let’s end the world.” Where’s my clue by four? Of all the spoiled, self-centered, obnoxious, stupid, conceited, childish… no, not even childish, just damned bratty things I’ve ever seen… This takes the fucking cake. Hell, it takes the whole party.

    We were talking on a list about how omnipotence would lead to boredom. I mentioned that when I get bored, I meditate on the axiom “Only boring people get bored.” I also mentioned that any being that didn’t have the power to have entertain themselves wasn’t omnipotent.

    This is a beautiful world, full of beautiful things and beautiful people, and it’s a great awesome expanse of things to do. The world is your oyster. There’s nothing you can imagine that you can’t accomplish.

    Want to throw fireballs? Kathy, physics major, wastewater engineer, and author of the “My Gal” blog has the trick. It involves explosives, spark plugs, and pumpkins. Cheating? Yeah, that’s what I said, but frickin’ fun.

    Want to own your own island? Get a job, save money, get your credit fixed, buy cheap properties in the slummy parts of town, rent them out, use the rental as income to qualify for more loans, get more properties, sit on them for a while, and then sell them when you’ve got them all paid half off or so. Move to Florida. There are Keys that no one lives on. Build a house. Include a Hurricane Shelter. Don’t forget a boat for supplies.

    Want to be Donald Trump? Do what he did. Want to be a famous occult author like Jason Miller, Lon DuQuette, Sam Webster, or MacGregor Mathers? Do it. It’s your life. You get what you work for. You start where you’re at, you plan a path to what you want, and you do it. Fuck. It ain’t rocket science.

    “I’m Bored.” Fuck you. Get some fucking balls. Grow the fuck up. The world ain’t going to sit around and come up with things to entertain you, you self-centered piece of shit. Get off your ass and do something. Get a fucking job already. And brush your god damned teeth. Your breath fucking stinks.

  • Tonight’s Work

    Oh, for Christ’s sake.

    Remember dude I mentioned that wanted to be a Moonchild? I got that all wrong. He corrected me. Seems they weren’t trying to be Moonchildren at all. Oh no, nothing so puerile, he assured me. No, these two geniuses were trying to start the Apocalypse!!! The end of the WORLD!!! For Serious.

    Because, you know, they were bored.

    Wait for it…

    Wait for it….

    Give me a fucking break! “I’m bored, let’s end the world.” Where’s my clue by four? Of all the spoiled, self-centered, obnoxious, stupid, conceited, childish… no, not even childish, just damned bratty things I’ve ever seen… This takes the fucking cake. Hell, it takes the whole party.

    We were talking on a list about how omnipotence would lead to boredom. I mentioned that when I get bored, I meditate on the axiom “Only boring people get bored.” I also mentioned that any being that didn’t have the power to have entertain themselves wasn’t omnipotent.

    This is a beautiful world, full of beautiful things and beautiful people, and it’s a great awesome expanse of things to do. The world is your oyster. There’s nothing you can imagine that you can’t accomplish.

    Want to throw fireballs? Kathy, physics major, wastewater engineer, and author of the “My Gal” blog has the trick. It involves explosives, spark plugs, and pumpkins. Cheating? Yeah, that’s what I said, but frickin’ fun.

    Want to own your own island? Get a job, save money, get your credit fixed, buy cheap properties in the slummy parts of town, rent them out, use the rental as income to qualify for more loans, get more properties, sit on them for a while, and then sell them when you’ve got them all paid half off or so. Move to Florida. There are Keys that no one lives on. Build a house. Include a Hurricane Shelter. Don’t forget a boat for supplies.

    Want to be Donald Trump? Do what he did. Want to be a famous occult author like Jason Miller, Lon DuQuette, Sam Webster, or MacGregor Mathers? Do it. It’s your life. You get what you work for. You start where you’re at, you plan a path to what you want, and you do it. Fuck. It ain’t rocket science.

    “I’m Bored.” Fuck you. Get some fucking balls. Grow the fuck up. The world ain’t going to sit around and come up with things to entertain you, you self-centered piece of shit. Get off your ass and do something. Get a fucking job already. And brush your god damned teeth. Your breath fucking stinks.

  • Stop the Presses!

    This Just In!!!

    To the right you’ll see my awesome Superman keyboard. In front of it is a set of Geomantic Tumblers, received just today from Witch Doctor Joe.

    I’ve used them about fifty times already. Ok, maybe 15, but still, they rock. Now, did anyone notice that in my previous post today, I mentioned that ideally I’d be doing more divinations? Huh? That was totally before the Geomantic Tumblers arrived.

    I was dreading using the Tarot cards again. I can’t stand them. For one thing, I have a five and a six year old. They love cards, and the Tarot cards have cartoons on ’em! And are so brightly colored! And so for the last five years, I haven’t been able to keep a complete Tarot deck in the house. For another, they’re annoying. If I’m gonna shuffle cards, I don’t want to stretch my fingers to the breaking point (I use a mini-Rider-Waite deck because of this, and they’re still as thick as a regular tarot deck, pleah).

    These tumblers, however, are ideal. Even if the kids play with them, they can’t be ruined the way a set of cards can be. and they fit right in the palm of your hand! AND the money goes to help a Pagan be a better Christian than any Christian I know. It doesn’t get better than this. I love supporting a causethat will result in Jesus standing in front of all the Christians, telling a Wiccan, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant,” and telling the self-righteous embarrassing nominal Christians that hate gays and convicts to “Fuck off, you said Lord Lord, but I never knew you, be-atch, now burn with those nut-jobs from Colorado Springs.”

    (I don’t think that’s literally what’s gonna happen, but figuratively, aw yeah!)

    We just asked whether my daughter got an A on her previous math test. It came up “Fortuna Minor,” which indicated an unfavorable response because she didn’t rush through the test. We asked if she got a B on the previous math test, and it came up Acquisitia, favorable if you want to gain something. She wants to gain a higher GPA, and a B would help towards that goal. So the Tumblers indicate she got a B.

    This is a set of questions that is perfect for ascertaining the accuracy of the divination. It’s based on work already done, but the results won’t be known for a while. The answer can be proven false. I’ll let everyone know how it turns out in the comments section.

    They’ve got a slight “hum” about them too. While using them, I started sweating a bit. Like I’m in a sauna. Or a sweat lodge.

  • Stop the Presses!

    This Just In!!!

    To the right you’ll see my awesome Superman keyboard. In front of it is a set of Geomantic Tumblers, received just today from Witch Doctor Joe.

    I’ve used them about fifty times already. Ok, maybe 15, but still, they rock. Now, did anyone notice that in my previous post today, I mentioned that ideally I’d be doing more divinations? Huh? That was totally before the Geomantic Tumblers arrived.

    I was dreading using the Tarot cards again. I can’t stand them. For one thing, I have a five and a six year old. They love cards, and the Tarot cards have cartoons on ’em! And are so brightly colored! And so for the last five years, I haven’t been able to keep a complete Tarot deck in the house. For another, they’re annoying. If I’m gonna shuffle cards, I don’t want to stretch my fingers to the breaking point (I use a mini-Rider-Waite deck because of this, and they’re still as thick as a regular tarot deck, pleah).

    These tumblers, however, are ideal. Even if the kids play with them, they can’t be ruined the way a set of cards can be. and they fit right in the palm of your hand! AND the money goes to help a Pagan be a better Christian than any Christian I know. It doesn’t get better than this. I love supporting a causethat will result in Jesus standing in front of all the Christians, telling a Wiccan, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant,” and telling the self-righteous embarrassing nominal Christians that hate gays and convicts to “Fuck off, you said Lord Lord, but I never knew you, be-atch, now burn with those nut-jobs from Colorado Springs.”

    (I don’t think that’s literally what’s gonna happen, but figuratively, aw yeah!)

    We just asked whether my daughter got an A on her previous math test. It came up “Fortuna Minor,” which indicated an unfavorable response because she didn’t rush through the test. We asked if she got a B on the previous math test, and it came up Acquisitia, favorable if you want to gain something. She wants to gain a higher GPA, and a B would help towards that goal. So the Tumblers indicate she got a B.

    This is a set of questions that is perfect for ascertaining the accuracy of the divination. It’s based on work already done, but the results won’t be known for a while. The answer can be proven false. I’ll let everyone know how it turns out in the comments section.

    They’ve got a slight “hum” about them too. While using them, I started sweating a bit. Like I’m in a sauna. Or a sweat lodge.

  • Goetic Dreams?

    So after last night’s rituals, I expected some kind of weird, post apocalyptic dreams.

    I got the mayor of New Orleans, the Dem and the Rep Presidential Candidates, in my house instead. Ok, still weird dreams, but nothing apocalyptic. McCain seemed like he had Alzheimers. Obama was just too eager to please, and generally disgusted that I wouldn’t fall under his sway. Mayor Nagen was trying to get money by contracting out repairs on our house without our consent. He was using a law that had recently passed, intended to bail out the housing slump, to push federally mandated repairs on the house, but my spouse had all the paperwork to prove we were exempt, and the mayor wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t make eye contact, he talked too fast, and seemed really … slimy.

    Obama wouldn’t stop making eye contact, like those paintings where the eyes are painted looking directly forward that look like they’re always following you around. And McCain was surrounded by too many bustling “flappers,” that he couldn’t have maintained a train of thought, let alone eye contact.

    Then I was riding a girl’s bike with high handlebars. I had to pedal really fast up hill to get anywhere, and there was no gear shift. The handlebars were like chopper handlebars, but they went straight up so my arms were really uncomfortable. And of course, I was too big for it. Then I went around the block and came down the hill on the street parallel, and almost ran into this bitchy neighbor that was a conglomeration of several bitchy moms that I know of at our real-life elemetary school, and she said something snide, and I was like, “Do you REALLY think I want to be on this bike?” She got offended and ended up taking her too-many kids in the house.

    It was weird, alright, but not really post-apocalyptic. After last night’s dream, I think I actually trust Obama more. He at least seemed sincere in his desire to want my vote. Not that he represents me, my values, or my goals in life, necessarily, just that at least he came across as honestly wanting me to like him. McCain was just out of it. Lost, befuddled. I felt sorry for him. He seemed like he was on some kind of drug, like the Ism from that video Mike Rock posted the other day. His retainers kept him dopey and distracted enough so he wouldn’t be able to pay attention to me, but they didn’t want him to have enough time to really see where he was at either. Bah. Political dreams. Weird shit. At least there were no scary clowns or three-foot Santas.

    But it wasn’t particularly Goetic. I had conjured Ga’ap, alias Tap, and had a good conversation with him. The rite went really well, and I asked him to send me a dream if I needed more information. Either I forgot a dream, or I didn’t need more information.

  • An Astral Ritual

    So last Tuesday I was dealing with some annoying crap in my life. Finances were sucking. My job, my beautiful job, was in trouble. The gov’t contract has to be reviewed and funds reallocated at the end of each fiscal year. (That’s Sept. 30 for you civilians that don’t know.) My company subcontracted renegotiations out to the locals, and they totally dropped the ball. I should have known this would happen, but you know, I was distracted by other things.

    I got a call saying I would lose half my hours and all my benefits. Oh boy, was I thrilled.

    Since I had failed to proactively magick up a good contract ahead of time, as I should have, I ended up having to do damage control magic instead. Reactionary rather than Proactionary magic is not the preferred modus operendi, but it would have to do.

    Tuesday, what a wonderful day for doing wealth magic, eh? I checked my Current Astrological Weather, and found that Mercury was Cazimi (within 17 minutes of the Sun). Cazimi is supposed to be like plugging the planet into a tesla coil or something. According to some, and I believe it. I figured the Cazimi effect would overpower the retrograde sufficiently to get some clear communications with the spirit world, plus I needed help in business.

    The Moon was also right on Jupiter’s ass, in the Second House. I mean, they were overlapping one another. I found this gem on an astrology site about the Second House: “Specific possessions covered by the Second House include earned income and our ability to influence it.”

    The Moon is waxing, and I had been reading in Agrippa that day about how the Moon has power over all growth and decrease (Book 2, chapter something or other). Since Jupiter is health and prosperity, and I needed both of these things for various other reasons, I thought, hey, that’s great!

    The other issue was Saturn hanging out in Virgo. As you may know, this can bring strife and discomfort into the hearth and home. My spouse was ill and dealing with a great deal of pain since Saturn wandered into Virgo. She’s a Capricorn, so I suspect that wherever Saturn wanders, she gets hit especially hard in that aspect of her life. This job issue was affecting our house and home and family, and knowing what I know about Saturn, I figured out that I would need to include this planet in the rite to get the boundaries moved.

    Since I was going to be trying to move the boundaries, I knew I’d need to go through the Sun to get to the proper part of Saturn’s sphere. The Solar Gate to Saturn provides the best landing pads, in my opinion. The Mars Gate sucks.

    So if you’ve been keeping track, by this time I had figured out I needed to work with the Sun, Saturn, Mercury, Jupiter, and the Moon. And it was a Tuesday. I looked at what I was thinking about, and laughed. Five of the Seven Governors working together to get me out of a mess on a day that none of them ruled. So what the hell, says I, I’ll throw Mars in too. I should probably have included Venus anyway, but it didn’t seem to make sense at the time. Looking back, it could have helped with the Hearth/Home issues too.

    So I had analyzed my situation and identified what some of the contributing factors were. I looked to the stars and found what was looking good and what wasn’t. I identified the key players, and figured out how each could be used magically to turn around my situation.

    So, in the hour of the Moon (because I was primarily trying to expand Jupiter’s influence to overcome the slow-but-steady aspect of financial growth that controls him while he’s in Capricorn), I conjured the following Archangels of the Planets:

    • Gabriel – Moon, to increase Jupiter’s influence
    • Tzadqiel – To increase Jupiter’s influence, bringing health and prosperity to the situation
    • Michael – To work with Tzaphqiel in a nice smooth manner to loosen bonds and move the boundaries that were constricting hearth and home, and to turn the boundaries from being walls of confinement into walls of protection
    • Tzaphqiel – To actually move the boundaries that were keeping our family poor and ill outwards, providing more space for the Jupiter-Moon effect to fill up the new gap, and to strengthen our defenses of our house and home
    • Raphael – To specifically aid in inter-communications between the other planetary governors, and to provide a focus on business to the rite
    • Kammael – Because it was Tuesday, at first, but as I was conjuring him I realized that he could add a certain “violence” to the rite, making its effects happen more quickly, and to turn it into a military campaign of sorts, like the Delta Force of Archangelic Powers

    I didn’t have time to set up a full ritual with all the incenses and lamens and seals and what have you. Astrologically, the clock was ticking, and I had about six minutes left in the Hour of the Moon, if I remember right. So I decided to go the Astral Temple route.

    I sat here in me leather chair before the computer monitor, closed me eyes and breathed. Focusing on the breath stills my mind, like the Qabalistic Cross used to back in the day when I practiced the GD-style magic. As my mind cleared, I began intoning the name of my HGA. At the same time, I visualized my Astral Temple around me. I basically placed myself at the center of the Altar setup I have, with the Four Angelic Kings surrounded by the Seven Planetary Seals. I felt my HGA’s presence in the room with me, and the golden light descended into my astral temple, bringing the seven planetary seals representing their spheres around me into sharp relief.

    As each of the Planetary Seals began to pulse with light and life, indicating to me that the Intelligences represented by each were at least listening, I began conjuring the Archangels. Each seemed to materialize around the seals that represented them, sort of. When I got to Raphael, the other Archangels seemed to clear up, and it was like putting on your glasses in the morning, or when the weather changes and a haze you didn’t realize was there just goes away.

    When I had all the Archangels present, I outlined why I had conjured them. I explained what had happened at work, and how it was affecting me. I then went through each of the Archangels mentioned above, and went over what it was I wanted them to do. I felt this warmth and this tingling in my body, which I had mostly forgotten about by then, and had to focus again on the temple. Can’t get distracted when the magic starts working.

    The Archangels all understood what it was I was trying to accomplish. Each agreed that they would do their part to make what I wanted manifest. It was a lot like a corporate meeting. they “talked” amongst themselves, and I sort of sensed what they were doing as different parts of my “Sphere” would resonate to each angel’s influence as they wove together the fabric of reality to accomplish what it was I was looking for.

    I thanked them, and my HGA, and God in Jesus name, and returned my awareness to my body. I felt completely different. Before beginning the rite, I was stressed, and felt a lot like a cornered, caged animal. The stress was like a heavy, humid heat wave on my soul. After the rite, it was jsut gone. Instead, I felt alive, healthy, and optimistic. That’s a big thing for me, because when I get going down the depression road that stess usually puts me on, optimism is the furthest thing from my mind.

    That day I got a call from the Vice President of the company I work for, and he went over everything that was going on with the contract in detail with me. He explained how things had happened, and what they were doing about it. He assured me that he would reissue a new contract that would work things out in my favor.

    My thoughts: “Yeah fucking right. You’ll say anything to keep me on your payroll, I’m making you money. No way I’m staying with a place that cut my paycheck in half and cut my benefits. Get fuct.”

    The next day, I got the contract. I got a raise, I got my benefits, and I was able to work out a 32-hour work schedule with the local sub-contractor that’s managing the project. I’m still losing money, but not half, and not the benefits. With a five-person family, you’ve got to hae benefits. That day, I also got multiple other job leads that would double my income for a couple of months, which was as long as the company expected me to be on reduced hours. I will be able to hold both jobs simultaneously by a stroke of luck.

    Now, ideally, I would have been performing divinations regularly enough to know what was coming. I would have seen this heading my way and done some proactive magic to eradicate the stress. I blame no one but myself. I’ve got to get a grasp on my life, and do all the things I mentioned in the Invisible College post so that I’m no longer left in a position of climbing back up the side of a cliff after I’ve run off like the Coyote chasing the Road Runner.