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Preying for Reign

           I secretly fantasize that one day an army of something terrible, like dinosaurs, giant bugs, lizard men, werewolves, or even giant vampire squid, will finally emerge from somewhere deep underground, or that we’ll at long last be violently invaded by aliens, as Hollywood has promised us for years, or that zombies will rise from the dead, hungry for human flesh, or that really ANYTHING truly monstrous, aside from us, would and could still stalk the shadows of our completely conquered world. This is a rarely expressed sentiment, but, if you have even one remaining shred of your basic human masculinity left anywhere within you, then I’m willing to bet that somewhere, deep inside, you hunger for such nightmares as well.


           Why? Because, deep down, I know that at least some of you must also hate having absolutely no use for your canines, for your fists, for your constantly atrophying senses, wits, and muscles, and for those now awkward fight-or-flight parts of your nervous system, almost as much as I do. Why else do so many people cling so foolishly to the impotent promises of an ever impending terrorist attack or, on the other side of the political spectrum, our exciting fears of the tireless predations of an oppressive and inhumane establishment? The fat and feminine parts of us often wonders aloud how the world can be so terribly awful, but deep down, in our guts, we all know it will never really be bad enough to make us into the glorious heroes that we all secretly wish we could become.


          Whether you’re aware of it or not, there’s a very real part of the human condition that desperately needs such dark fantasies as these, these promises of ever impending and, most importantly, tangible, danger, to keep each one of us from bloating into some sort of soft-bottomed, semi-conscious, slug, without any wit, will, or wildness left inside it. There’s definitely a reason why men used to go to war but now we’re left with nothing but video games, as even our wars have become indistinguishable from such, not to mention undistinguished.


           Some of us can feel the inevitable slide of modern man into the queasy computer screen lit death of the human spirit far more acutely than others, and a few of us, such as myself, are mostly immune to the conventional and convenient myths that the rest of mankind seems to be using to stave of what may be the inescapable end of our primitive and now vanishing manhood. From soldiers to skinheads I can see the inhuman lie of “otherness,” of a truly alien and deserving foe, for what it really is; the desperate delusions of shrinking men who are either to stupid or just to cruel to honestly face the end of our once indispensable but now obsolete masculinity.


          I prize my intellect, but curse it for failing to find any other solutions that might replace the ones which it has rendered unworkable. I think I may linger here on the edge of childhood indefinitely, at least until I can find a graceful way to die. Until then I can only hope to find a war worth fighting against anyone other than myself, the lack of which may be the true cause of death for all modern men.


           The Game is over. We have both won and lost.


           In closing, I found a poem from last year which seems pertinent:


The War I need can be bloodless. Indeed,
any bloodshed could just spread the Darkness and lead
to the fall of my Soul, which might only impede
the Great Work on my Unified Being.


But I’ve seen, stark and lean, how the Gods, Kings, and Queens,
starved for lack of a scene to support them.
How the path of the Serene, although quiet and clean,
holds no Dragons to slay or to court them.


So I yearn for a War, let the old trumpets roar,
light the torches, we must march on something.
Cause at the end of each year one thing is painfully clear:
If I have nothing to fear, I am nothing.

How Faeries Call the Quarters

           For those of you who can't make it tomorrow night, or who can make it but wanted to study our words a little bit closer, here's a leaked copy of the script from our upcoming Summer Solstice ritual. (You didn't get it from me...)


-The Opening of the Circle:


PUCK:
Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon:
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night,
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide.
And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecate's team
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic. Not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallowed house....
I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.
(uses a broom to clear the space as the Calling of the Quarters begins)


QUEEN MORGANA:
Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the East,
to the Elemental Powers of Air in the Secret Kingdom of the Fairy Sylphid,
Not merely the wind, but each and every Internal Form;
Our very own minds and everything else which can be grasped within.
Profanely pursued today as “Knowledge”
but worshiped in countless more regal and disparate guises,
From Mercury, Cardea, Nuit, and Thoth,
to Vayu, Khephera, Enlil, and Shu,
to Aradia, Urania, Iris, and Aditi,
and serving the properly initiated on this night as the Archangel Az-az-el,
We call upon you in all your majesty to witness and consecrate this humble rite.


KING MAB:
Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the South,
to the Elemental Powers of Fire in the Secret Kingdom of the Dragon,
Not merely heat but each and every External Force;
Our very own wills and every other mover of the world outside our skin.
Profanely pursued today as “Power”
but worshiped in countless more regal and disparate guises,
from Sekmet, Horus, Hestia and Ra,
to Hephaestus, Agni Ea, Logi and Atar,
to Gibil Brigit, Vesta, Hertha, and Prometheus,
and serving the properly initiated this night as the Archangel Gi-bor-re-el,
We call upon you in all your majesty to witness and consecrate this humble rite.


KING OBERON:
Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the West,
to the Elemental Powers of Water in the Secret Kingdom of the Merfolk,
Not merely moisture but each and every Internal Force;
Our very own hearts and every single passion that stirs somewhere deep within.
Profanely pursued today as “Love”
but worshiped in countless more regal and disparate guises,
from Venus, Manannan, Kama, and Kwan Yin,
to Neptune, Eurzuli, Mari, and Mariamne,
to Aphrodite, Oceanus, Tiamat and Astarte,
and serving the properly initiated this night as the Archangel Is-ra-fi-el,
We call upon you in all your majesty to witness and consecrate this humble rite.


QUEEN TITANIA:
Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the North,
to the Elemental Powers of Earth in the Secret Kingdom of the Gnome,
Not merely clay but each and every External Form;
Our very own bodies and every other object from this World we now live in.
Profanely pursued today as “Wealth”
but worshiped in countless more regal and disparate guises,
from Gaia, Ceres, Demeter, and Dionysus
to Rhea, Persephone, Mah, and Bhawana,
to Cernunnnos, Pluto, Pan, and Tammuz
and serving the properly initiated this night as the Archangel Me-ki-el,
We call upon you in all your majesty to witness and consecrate this humble rite.


-Introduction of the Champion of the Light


-Introduction of the Champion of the Dark


-Ritual combat and the sacrifice of the Light’s Champion


-The Eulogy for the Light


-The Closing of the Circle:


QUEEN MORGANA:
Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the East,
to the Elemental Powers of Air in the Secret Kingdom of the Fairy Sylphid,
Not merely the wind, but each and every Internal Form;
Our very own minds and everything else which can be grasped within.
Profanely pursued today as “Knowledge”
but worshiped in countless more regal and disparate guises,
From Mercury, Cardea, Nuit, and Thoth,
to Vayu, Khephera, Enlil, and Shu,
to Aradia, Urania, Iris, and Aditi,
and serving the properly initiated on this night as the Archangel Az-az-el,
We release you, in all your majesty, to now walk the earth, empowered by our rites.


KING MAB:
Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the South,
to the Elemental Powers of Fire in the Secret Kingdom of the Dragon,
Not merely heat but each and every External Force;
Our very own wills and every other mover of the world outside our skin.
Profanely pursued today as “Power”
but worshiped in countless more regal and disparate guises,
from Sekmet, Horus, Hestia and Ra,
to Hephaestus, Agni Ea, Logi and Atar,
to Gibil Brigit, Vesta, Hertha, and Prometheus,
and serving the properly initiated this night as the Archangel Geb-ur-el,
We release you, in all your majesty, to now walk the earth, empowered by our rites.


KING OBERON:
Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the West,
to the Elemental Powers of Water in the Secret Kingdom of the Merfolk,
Not merely moisture but each and every Internal Force;
Our very own hearts and every single passion that stirs somewhere deep within.
Profanely pursued today as “Love”
but worshiped in countless more regal and disparate guises,
from Venus, Manannan, Kama, and Kwan Yin,
to Neptune, Eurzuli, Mari, and Mariamne,
to Aphrodite, Oceanus, Tiamat and Astarte,
and serving the properly initiated this night as the Archangel Is-ra-fi-el,
We release you, in all your majesty, to now walk the earth, empowered by our rites.


QUEEN TITANIA:
Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the North,
to the Elemental Powers of Earth in the Secret Kingdom of the Gnome,
Not merely clay but each and every External Form;
Our very own bodies and every other object from this World we now live in.
Profanely pursued today as “Wealth”
but worshiped in countless more regal and disparate guises,
from Gaia, Ceres, Demeter, and Dionysus
to Rhea, Persephone, Mah, and Bhawana,
to Cernunnnos, Pluto, Pan, and Tammuz
and serving the properly initiated this night as the Archangel Me-ki-el,
We release you, in all your majesty, to now walk the earth, empowered by our rites.


PUCK:

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.

A Midsummer Solstice Dream

          The image is the thing. That, in so many words, is the secret to art, magick, religion, immortality, and, on a less profound level, counterfeiting and pornography (men's anyway). This month I'm working with the energies of an angel named Ambriel, the thief of many faces, who presides over, and unlocks the secrets of, the mercurial energies of Gemini. It is said that after the Archetypal Animus and the Archetypal Anima arrive with the energies of Aries and Taurus, respectively, Ambriel's role in Gemini is to provide access to a level of communicative power that transcends the coercions and manipulations of these two figures. As previously mentioned, the Angel Ambriel is the angel of Escape, and the Escape plan this month will culminate in the Midsummer Solstice Dream.


          At the end of Gemini we arrive immediately at the Summer Solstice, which this year will be marked with a massive and powerful magical ritual, one that will hopefully serve to liberate a great number of my fallen brothers and sisters. More details are available elsewhere, but the ritual will take the shape of two Faerie Courts, one Light and one Dark, each with there own Royalty and occult mysteries to share and/or be discovered by those involved. For most people, the ritual begins and ends on June 21st, between 9pm and 2am, but for those who are really a part of it, as with all magick, where this ride actually starts and stops depends upon each individual mind.


          Carlos Castaneda once said, "There are no accidents to a man of knowledge." True magick overpowers and spills forth from any of the tiny containers we may try to hold it in, with an often swiftly accelerating rising tide of paranormal activity, synchronicities, and illuminations, warping the fabric of reality itself towards ends that will only be obvious to those closest to the particular current that's being unleashed upon the world. Thus we sit at planning committees and speak with passerbys largely unaware of the inevitability of the things that will and are coming through us as we all move closer and closer to the inevitable point of manifestation. Although I can feel it rising and taking shape, and, having some experience with these things, I believe that I can serve it with slightly more awareness than those who vainly think that they are "in control," even I must, to some extent, follow the power of the river we've unleashed upon an unsuspecting world.


          If you really want to understand, come to me on the dark plateau of Bandi Schaum on this upcoming Summer Solstice; Come to me when I've given myself over to the form of King Maab, and I will show you everything that I myself have only recently been blessed to learn. Good luck and Namaste.

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