The Desmious Escape Plan

“Every proper escape begins not with a plan,
but with an awareness of one's current captivity.”

           These words were first written to me by a mysterious stranger who called himself “Desmious,” which, I eventually learned, was not his proper name at all, but, rather, the Greek word for 'Prisoner.' Although I never learned his real name, or even met the man face-to-face (assuming, of course, that he was a man), the few things that I did learn from him have proven invaluable, so much so that today I feel compelled to share some it here with all of you; I hope you're paying attention.

           You see, Desmious claimed to have started out many, many, years ago, as an amateur escape artist. Obsessed from a very young age with the fundamental architecture of prisons, and of systems of control in general, he quickly rose up to become the greatest master of the slip that this world had ever seen, unsurpassed at finding, and exploiting, previously undetected weaknesses in all manner of confinements, entanglements, and oppressions. He had become so good at escape, in fact, that he was eventually inducted into a vast world dominating Conspiracy, one where he was to serve as a sort of quality control consultant for the world's elite social engineers. For years, Desmious was tasked with the terrible job of testing and improving upon a corrupt system's most oppressive structures, not only the pieces of what he calls the ickthyfilaky, or the guarded prison, but also the gradual construction of something far more nefarious, a modern contrivance known by far fewer people as the melifilaky, or the honey prison.

           Desmious always hated the melifilaky. He explained to me once that while both the spirit and the flesh will instinctively struggle against the far more obvious limitations of a conventional incarceration, the power of the honey prison lies in it's innocuous, seemingly beneficial, nature. As he watched the world slip further and further into the sticky snares of this seemingly undetectable threat, it was his sincere, almost religious, devotion to that delicate dance between capture and escape which, perhaps inevitably, compelled him to eventually betray the Conspiracy.

           What follows, therefore, is a brief description of the seven primary members of this supposedly ancient and all consuming plot. Perhaps, like many, you'll simply refuse to believe in any evil consortium of Supervillians whom, in ways that will soon be made obvious, subtly rule the modern world, with very little, if any, opposition. At least at first, many of you probably won't even pause to consider how you, or your families, might, even now, be falling victim to any of these ubiquitous assaults on the human mind and body. Desmious says that this is because you have, in fact, become a living part of the prison itself, and thus can really never hope to escape; he taught me that we must instead escape from you.

           I, however, remain hopeful, but, if he's right, then this may serve as your only notice that we are leaving, and, at least, you'll be granted a chance at understanding why. Ultimately, whether or not you come along, and who you might attempt to bring with you, will have to be entirely up to you and what you're capable of seeing.

           This is, after all, where all proper escapes must begin.

           (Unfortunately, illustrations for any of the following 7 Wanted posters have yet to be finalized. We live in hope.)


For Predatory Lending,
Extortion, Usury, and Fraud

           The Senex, an ascended Alchemist, currently owns most of the planet Earth and exercises his royal prerogative via an unthinkably vast banking empire. He is the prime architect of an ancient occult conspiracy that stretches far back before the Order of Melchizadek (a.k.a. Jupiter), the Hashshashin, the Templars, The Freemasons, and, of course, the Federal Reserve, all of which currently answer to him. His intense rivalries with other Alchemical Masters of history, from St. Germain to Sir Issac Newton, are also legendary, although these days he mostly just locks promising Alchemists up, forcing them to slave away in secret for his bank.

           Once, they say, he was quite literally made of gold, but these days, he's become a wispy digital whirl of swirling one and zeroes; the fundamental idea of ownership itself, extended out into infinity.


For Poisoning Billions
and Political Corruption

           The Senex's niece, Mother Dreadful, as the self-proclaimed goddess of the Oikos Panouklas, or 'the Household Plagues,' is responsible for GMOs, preservatives and artificial sweeteners, for fluoride, pesticides, heavy metals and dyes, for the over-processing and over-sweetening of the American diet, all of which has contributed to our current Functional Zombie Apocalypse. She is the matron of the Illuminati house Rothschild* (from whom she inherited, among other things, her tiny army of mind-controlling parasites which she's dubbed the “Determites”), but suffers from a psychological illness called Lamia Syndrome, thoroughly convinced that the world needs to be saved from itself by the cautious enlightenment, and natural selection, her various poisons bring.


For Subversion of the Fifth Estate
and Possibly Deicide

           Mediacrates hunts those whom the Order of Jupiter deem a potential threat to the status quo, colloquially referred to as “sparks.” A bishop in the Catholic Church, this thin neuro-assassin commands enormous assets, both magical and mundane, including an army of conservative zealots, a quartet of archonic angels called the Drudge, and a vast media empire. All of these are part of his “Mediacratic Method,” a systematic process of indoctrination and bribery designed to neutralize the various threats posed by nonconformists and malcontents.


For Consumerism,
Slave Labor and Xenocide

           Santa Claus was once merely the bishop of Myra until he merged body and soul with a pagan God of Darkness called the Holly King, ascending to become the world's foremost guardian against all things supernatural and, more importantly, the modern God of Consumerism. He has a slave army of elves and satyrs and runs a magical prison sweat shop in the North Pole called “The Workshop.” Armed assaults on the Workshop are common, primarily by a single group of radical militants called the E.L.F. (the Elven Liberation Front). The goal of the E.L.F. is not just to liberate the various mythical creatures currently slaving away in the Santa's Workshop, but to release the long imprisoned God of Spring, the unfairly demonized Krampus.


For Mind Control

           The Pale Warden is an alien who crafts various technological wonders, the primary focus of which are the enslavement, or at least the perpetual distraction, of the human mind. Her people are known on Earth as the Fae, and she's here on a mission to keep humans from somehow stumbling into any of the various dimensional rifts that connect her shining world to our own. Popular Pale Warden Technology throughout the ages has included such advances as the stage, the radio, the television, comic books, role-playing games, video games, the internet and most recently, her greatest success, smart phones.


For Police Brutality and
Countless Other Crimes of Conformity

           The Authoritarian's power waxes and wanes in response to the amount of pain, fear, and resignation he can harvest from those whom he bends to his will. Part of this transformation is physical, as he often makes dramatic increases in size, strength, and speed, but he also has a large degree of telepathic influence over the sensory perceptions of anyone he's beaten into submission, controlling both what they can and cannot see. These mind-controlled fools become drones in his massive army of Conformatons, a humorless and superficial collection of petty tyrants, haters, snitches and apologists. It's not clear exactly what the Authoritarian is, but he has displayed a disturbing ability to inhabit the bodies of those under his dominion, and to survive indefinitely in spirit form should his own body be destroyed. He has, in the past, claimed to being nothing less than the actual God of the Old Testament, but, of course, this has never been verified.


For High Treason and
the Corporate Conspiracy

           The Ultima Thule has multiple forms: from the earliest robot prototypes it used to rely upon to substantiate its terrible existence, to the various modern avatars it now uses to travel freely across the internet, and even out into space, this Nazi God Machine is a vastly powerful artificial intelligence seeking nothing less than the perfect merger of business and government, a Neo-Fascist Corporatocracy. Unlike the Authoritarian, The Ultima Thule is a purely material phenomenon, a sentient computer program without any inherent ability to spiritually possess others or to persist beyond the destruction of it's physical hosts; unfortunately, copies of its core programing appear to be regularly backed up in secret locations all across the globe, making the Nazi God Machine effectively as indestructible and immortal as the Authoritarian himself.

Who is the Krampus?: A Modern Guide to Krampusmas

              Krampusmas is an ever expanding holiday season based on the Krampus's own indefatigable defiance of the darkness. It usually begins in earnest on December 5th, with the year's first official Krampuslauf, a decentralized “parade” which serves as a gathering for all those who wish to pledge themselves to the returning God of Light as we enter upon this delicate period of solar transition. Just over two weeks later, the Winter Solstice arrives, and with it comes "the Great Solstice Battle," which has traditionally been marked with various contests between the various agents of the light and of the dark, culminating in one last epic struggle between the Oak and the Holly Kings. This one sacred night is typically considered by most to be the actual “Krampusmas holiday,” but this well beloved season of defiance seems to arrive, at least for me, earlier and earlier, and to then stretch on for longer and longer, with every passing year.

             Of course, beyond these two essential dates, any other of the more conventional holidays one might wish to acknowledge can be engaged in as each individual sees fit. However, for reasons that will momentarily be made clear, obligatory acts of mass consumerism are very strongly discouraged, and, whenever possible, should be replaced with actual acts of charity, preformed either anonymously or in the name of Krampus.

             Yet who, you may ask, is the Krampus, and what's his beef with consumerism anyway? So glad that you asked.

             The pre-Christian origins of the Krampus reach all the way back to the so-called Wildmen that were believed to preside over the initiatory binding and scourging of novice witches. The Krampus's infamous birch branches are in fact a very well known magical tool for the driving out of unclean spirits, and indeed, later day tales of "bad" children carried away in a sack could indicate a form of forced conscription into one of the many dark corners of the Supramundane, just as with the Chinese Linn Quei or the Irish Fae.

             Yet, unquestionably, the Krampus's greatest and most defining role was preformed as the immortal God of Spring known as the Oak King. Each year, at the Winter Solstice, this God of Light battled and overthrew the God of Darkness and Winter, who appeared as a bearded and burly woodsman, complete with heavy black boots and a fur lined coat, known, at that time at least, as the Holly King.

             However, with the arrival of the aptly named Dark Ages, a pagan slaying Catholic Bishop named Nicholas of Mira somehow assumed the immortal station of this ancient pagan arch-villain, and the once heroic Krampus found himself securely bound in heavy iron chains, forced to serve as a brutish boogeyman for his eternally entropic antagonist the Holly King, or rather, as he has now come to be known all around the world, the saccharine and sanctimonious Santa Claus.

             From that time forward, this well concealed Dark God of winter and decay has been able to rule the entire world, year round, as the now uncontested God of Frenzied Mass Consumption. This, my friends, is the true story of Christmas, known only to a select few, though consistently intuited by millions. Yet fear not; the true God of Yule will soon return- on December 21st, to be precise.

             So please, don't forget to sharpen your horns and, in whatever ways that you can, defy the darkness.

             Merry Krampusmas everybody.

Awakening the Lashes of Fire

            There's a saying over in Isreal that "you haven't made it in Israeli politics until you've been cursed by the Pulsa diNura," an increasingly in vogue death threat slung around among the lowest of the ultra-orthodox. The “dark power” of the Pulsa diNora was infamously unleashed just over a year ago against the Israeli Economics and Trade Minister, Naftali Bennett, when, in early 2013, Bennett controversially advocated for some radical policy changes in regard to Israel's then almost universally mandatory military service, changes that would no longer exempt the children of the ultra-orthodox from actually serving, like most other Israelis, in the endless military occupation of Palestine. This would make them and their families have to physically participate, like all other Israelis, in a war that these same Rabbis seemed otherwise very eager to support; that is, at least, vocally, and, of course, with other people's blood.

            Bennett easily survived this curse, as well as other, far more credible, threats against his life, yet, according to the Ultra-Orthodox, this curse has been responsible for a handful of prominent political deaths over the years, from the death of Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon a decade back, to Israeli Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin's assassination ten years before that (both, ostensibly, due to plans that each of these leaders had made to return currently occupied lands back to the Palestinians). This week, however, something quite new and disturbing transpired, something that should make you as angry as it did me, because the so called “Lashes of Fire,” apparently the perfect curse for cowards who are eager to speak yet unwilling to act, was leveled against a local American restaurant, and all of its American staff, right here on American soil. Apparently, someone wants to fight their foreign war here as well, and, even more audaciously, they want to use magick to do so. I believe that's my department, thank you; so, if you're intrigued, please, follow me though this short story step by step, and I'll tell you when we get to end what you can do to help.

            As usual, I entered this conflict feet first and flying blind a full day before it should have begun. At the breaking of Sabbath this Saturday I held a massive and spontaneous fire ritual, in which I employed literal “lashes of fire,” at a local Jewish home right here in Pittsburgh. Later that evening, while searching for a proper name for the new fire tool I had created, I discovered the Pulsa diNora quite accidentally, a synchronicity which gave me a chance to pore over its twisted political history. Nothing too strange about that, except that the very next day I learned that someone else, unbeknownst to me, had just launched this very same curse, as well as the death threat it implies, against my friends at the Conflict Kitchen.

            Now, the police, as we speak, are searching for the person responsible for this threat, but I've been working on the magical angle of the problem for a few days now, and I've learned that while this theurgic ritual can be accomplished any number of ways, nearly all of them will be enormously flawed by various fundamental delusions. First of all, there's strong Zoharic authority stating that this “curse” is actually a sort of blessing in disguise, as many believe that it can only properly be invoked to the benefit of a “Jew” who has himself fallen into some sort of “religious error.” The very idea of using this against non-Jews is as ridiculous as threatening to excommunicate Rastifarians from the Catholic Church. However, despite this basic confusion, I've still chosen to employ mirrors in my current efforts to subvert this mysterious terrorist's magical efforts, of which this essay is but one.

            Mirrors, you see, are often used in magic to reflect back malicious energies against any who might attempt to send them out, but the mirror serves a deeper mystical function as well, bringing each of us face to face with our own most immediate and stark realities. The Pulsa diNora, among people who aren't stupid enough to conceive of it as a mere curse, is better understood as the protective covering which shields the Shekinah, the indwelling essence of God itself, from all external harms it might encounter while in this world, as well as protecting the world from it. That someone is attempting to remove this covering with the notion of doing a non-Jew actual physical harm, a sentiment which is expressly forbidden anyway, is really laughable, since as far as I can tell all authentic rituals connected to this construct can only properly be used for one thing and one thing only: The spiritual perfection of those upon whom it focuses. It is, like all proper Lovecraftian workings, a simple matter of breaking inconvenient seals, of setting that which is currently bound loose upon the world. Sounds fantastic if you ask me.

            So, in addition to reflections and re-directions, I've also amplified the basic curse and attempted to spread its fundamental influence like a dirty bomb all across Oakland, Shadyside and Squirrel Hill, in the hopes that it will do what it was ACTUALLY intended to do: to strip away all of that which has heretofore insulated us from the truth that's all around us, to bring us our “due” by placing the divine spirit in each of us right up against the countless troubles and turmoils which I'm sure some of us may have callously been ignoring for far, far, too long. Today, you will be as gods.

            And I do all this with only one last word of caution:

            The Waking of the Lashes of Fire represents finally taking responsibility for all of the things we've pushed for with our own individual magical wills, whether or not we each currently understand, or even acknowledge, how we are, in fact, such magicians, this spell harkens directly to the divine, and all-too-often dreaming, core of our unconscious, so that it might flood out, even as you read these words, into the world around us to manifest immediate and unmediated change. It's that rare magick of instant Karma which I, for one, welcome with open arms. However, there's nothing to fear here, because, unlike those sick sad men who've been thoroughly twisted away from the indwelling breath of their own God, we aren't hiding from the truth.

            And now neither can you. See you in the Kitchen. Good luck and Namaste.

That New Religion

          Since I started my new religion, which has been referred to, with varying degrees of accuracy, as the Nameless Religion, the Anti-Church of the Anti-Everything, the Secret Sword, the Charis Conspiracy, the Campaign Against The New Gods, the Hidden Covenant, the Djinn Army, Gnostic Anti-Thought, etc., etc., I've received a lot of questions and concerns, the more reasonable ones being: Why haven't you named it? Don't you think it needs to be made more clear exactly what you're talking about and what you want people to do? Who do you think would follow such a “religion?” When will you lay out the rules for adherents? Don't you think you're being a bit too vague/negative? Uh.. one of your evil Gods is SANTA CLAUS? Seriously?!?

          Since I'd unplugged in honor of Mind Control Wednesdays, I've had a moment to reflect on these questions and I wanted to briefly address them and perhaps share a little more about where I'm actually coming from with all this. First, the name is not only not important, it's a trap. People misuse such labels to either identify or distance themselves from a complex collection of ideas, people, and events, with both sides, the self and the other, becoming unnecessarily reified and misunderstood in the bargain. You are not any of the labels you dress yourself up with, regardless of how accurately they may describe the person you want to believe you've appeared to be, and neither is anything else you're trying to tie down with language.

          One relevant example would be the so-called “Gnostics” who were, in fact, a quite disparate collection of magical traditions, schools of enlightenment, alchemical conspiracies, and competing cults, which the more orthodox Catholic Church attempted to collapse into this one single label. The term itself could loosely be translated as “one who seeks to really know,” and was selected not only to emphasize their departure from the Church's demands for unquestioning faith (and its prohibitions against magic), but, in my opinion, it was also a rhetorical move to better disregard the plurality and multiplicity of thought that characterized their spiritual opposition at that time, some of whom, I should point out, weren't even terribly opposed to them. However, in the end, it was far more expedient to have one single term with which to swat at a thousand flies than to learn each of their names and their individual stories, which, for obvious reasons, would have been a very dangerous move, both politically and rhetorically.

          Of course, in the end, the Church managed to crush those movements, driving them either to the pyre or into obscurity, with many of their names all but forgotten, and, in this way, I suppose, I am doing my ideas an enormous disservice by refusing to brand them. After all, how could you follow this anti-faith if you lacked a convenient way to tell your friends and family about it? How can I argue about it's differences with other faiths or search desperately for some common ground that might allow us to comfortably associate? Is there nothing to put on our T-shirts? What will we write on the census or when we file with the government? These are, of course, all things you can work out on your own, but I sincerely hope you've figure out by now why you don't have to.

          The truth needs no such labels. The Taoists expressed these same sentiments when they said that the Tao that can be spoken is not the true Tao, and also that those who know don't say, while those who say don't know. Now obviously I'm saying a lot of things even by saying this, and it's not like I have no doctrines or opinions to express, but it's important that you approach all of this from a place of freedom. You didn't come here, I hope, to be told how to act, or even what to think or feel. If you're really cut out to be part of this religion, then I would hope you're one of those rare individuals who can be comfortable searching without perhaps ever definitively finding, of seeing any answers I may appear to give as merely the impetus for further questions and for your own continued research; a person who is capable of being without becoming and of becoming without being. Mostly, I would hope that you want to be free or, to some extent at least, that you already are.

          Hopefully that explains many of the questions above. While I may engage in ethical discourse from time to time and even call for certain actions, I would never presume to do so as the sort of authority that must be listened to uncritically, because there is no such authority on Earth. While I may at times be intentionally vague, I'm certainly not trying to be unclear. While it's true that I have a lot of things I want people to understand, I also want people to think for themselves and not use the things I give them as an excuse to avoid working out the truth on their own.

          Which brings me to that last question: Am I seriously suggesting that Santa Claus is a dark god who needs to be fought? Well, yes. Obviously.

          Of course I can understand how this might not be as obvious to those who've never looked beneath the surface, into the old pagan Solstice rites, or observed the historical shift whereby the light god of Spring was unfairly transformed into a vicious demon and the dark god of Winter was literally made a bishop in the Catholic Church. My war against Santa Claus not only encapsulates almost everything that's wrong with the Church (their demonization of man-as-animal, their shameless cannibalization of pagan traditions, their Dominionist attempt to enslave and oppress both nature and the human body, their exile of magic, and their exceedingly questionable intentions towards small children, to name a few) but also speaks to the more pressing issues I have with the current Consumerist society which has largely eclipsed them. This enemy is so entrenched in the hearts and minds of those around you that I strongly suggest an indirect approach should you choose to address any of the real issues that lie beneath this seemingly farcical war. Indeed, the almost cartoonish idea of the war itself, if presented properly, with the so-called Krampus as a captive and misunderstood hero and the ever popular Santa Claus as a two-faced villain running an Elven sweatshop, should be more than enough to set the mind thinking in a dangerous direction, one that will inevitably lead it to some awkward realizations, which might just be far easier to accept if they come from within than from someone else.

          There are many such revelations buried inside what little I offer as “doctrine.” For instance, every child will one day learn the true identity of Santa Claus, yet there is another, even greater revelation, one that almost never comes because our circumstances never force us to ponder it: Who is the Krampus and who keeps him in chains?

          The answer to this mystery if you truly get it, could even be enough to finally set it free. Good Luck and Namaste.

Warship of the Old Gods

          With so much wasted time in the average month I try to give at least one full week of attention to the New Gods and then another, if I feel it's necessary, on some decidedly delicate dealings with the Old Ones. Since the days of the week in many cultures are all already named for the Old Gods, that may appear to be a simple enough thing for many of you to figure out, but most of you might still wonder exactly who I'm "worshiping" with almost half my time, as well as precisely when, and, of course, how. Well here's a very brief breakdown, with some of those details omitted, or, at the very least, left very intentionally vague... for your own good, of course. (Remember what Confucius said about the other three corners.)

          First off, I should explain that the New Gods only really exist, in my opinion, to be grudgingly placated when necessary, heroically battled against whenever possible, and, if that's your thing, ruthlessly mastered and controlled, as they are by the Awakened Adepts of the Illuminati. Only a fool would actually worship any of these assholes intentionally, but, of course, many of us were either born fools, or, worse, assholes, or else simply raised by one or the other or both, so don't feel bad if you've arrived late, or not at all, to this particular black panther-esque party. These are all very popular Gods of the modern age, and you probably currently worship at least two or three, if not more, of them. Most of you guys are, after all, still only human.

          That said, I'll just lay out the table here and let you figure out how best to eat what's being served (I suggest tiny bites, from below):

  Monday's are for Santa Claus, the God of Consumerism.

  Tuesday's are for the Authoritarian, the God of Authoritarianism.

  Wednesday's are for the Pale Warden, the God of Mind Control.

  Thursday's are for the Ultima Thule, the God of Corporatism.

  Friday's are for Mother Dreadful, the God of Hysterics and Doubt.

  Saturday's are for the Senex, the God of Senescence.

  Sunday's are for Mediocrates, the God of Status and the Status Quo.

          It's a bit overwhelming to face them all at once, although if I've learned anything it's that, even when they may appear to be at odds, believe me when I say that they're all in this together. I just find this pragmatic division of my spiritual labors a far most helpful way to compartmentalize my own efforts. It keeps my Great Work from becoming too, well, scattered, or dare I say completely snuffed out, by the sheer size and strength of this rather imposing opposition.

          To summarize (for those of you who are, y'know, a little slow) battling against these soul crushing forces gives shape and meaning to my currently deeply troubled existence. Perhaps it's a djinni thing and you just wouldn't understand, or perhaps you get it completely and we are now both a little bit less alone. Post-Traumatic Growth is sort of an acquired taste, I guess.

          Oh yeah... I almost forgot the Old Gods (Haven't we all though?). You probably know and understand them by their more common names. However, I personally find their Norse, their Greek, their Roman, or even their Hebrew names, as well as these more conventional spiritual conceptions, all rather bland in comparison to the ones I'm listing below, but, hey, whatever energies give YOU the strength to do what you got to do. Besides, you could always get all that other information really almost anywhere else. I'm not here to give you what you want, but rather, what you actually need, which, in this case, just happens to be some Old Gods that you can drop like astral atomic bombs. Yeah. You're welcome.

          On that note:

                Monday's were once for Dagon.

                Tuesday's were once for Cthulhu.

                Wednesday's were once for Nytharlathotep.

                Thursday's were once for Yog-Sothoth.

                Friday's were once for Shub-Niggurath.

                Saturday's were once for Yig.

                Sunday's were once for Azathoth.

          Remember, while their followings are all now relatively small, all of these Gods are still very, very, big. Godzilla big (if only on the inside). Desperate times, however...

          Well anyway, there's the "when" and the "who." As with the New Gods, I'll leave the "how" to your various fertile imaginations, although there's more than one version of the Necronomicon floating around out there; Perhaps you will even pen one of your own. Whatever happens, Good Luck and Namaste.

The Tragic Fate of Simon Pure

"Angel of God, my guardian dear,
to whom God's love commends me here,
ever this day be at my side,
to rule, to guard, to light and guide;
but if I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take
        -Guardian Angel Prayer

          To the growing few who've heard of them, the so-called "Amazing Aeons" are as close as it gets to an actual Gnostic Superhero Team; an otherwise fraudulent spirit medium, who goes by the name of Simon Pure, currently working with a small but potent group of disincarnate intelligences. Mr. Pure has garnered some amount of public acclaim as of late for the impressive feats which he and his mysterious spiritual assistants have apparently accomplished, but most recently he's even launched his own website at, now offering his unique brand of magical problem solving to the public at large, for a reasonable fee of course.

          Ironically, such commercial glory is the very thing which will almost certainly destroy the foolish Simon Pure. You see, while this man's claims of communication with the dead all appear to me to be simple acts of mentalism, his recent magical displays are not. The fact is that Simon Pure has finally found real magick. However, cautionary tales regarding these particular ghostly forces were documented long ago in the grimiores of Valentinian Wizards, and it was in one such tome that I can only assume that Mr. Pure learned these spirit's names. You can find some scant mentions of them even here on-line. They are Kathegetes (kath-ayg-ay-TACE, "the Guide"), Lutrotes (loo-tro-TACE, "the Redeemer"), Karpistes (kar-pees-TACE, "the Emancipator"), Horothetes (hor-o-thay-TACE, "the Limit-setter"), and Metagogeus (meh-tah-GO-gee-us, "the Across-taker").

          Yet the most important thing, which he obviously has failed to learn, was that while this Aeonic Pentarchy are highly effective agents to call upon if and when one sincerely desires to do Good, these are not like most other recorded spirits, and the wise wizards of the past all knew much better than to ever attempt to bend such primal forces to their own wills. Of course, since I've revealed their sacred names here (I have my reasons), I should also explain why I believe that poor Mr. Pure and his commercial ambitions may not be long for this world, much like any of you who are arrogant of foolish enough to attempt to evoke the Gnostic powers I've just revealed. There's always one. (Yeah, I'm taking about you.)

          Each of these five Aeonic forces serves a very different, yet vital, function in one's battle against evil, imparting impressive powers to those who know how and when to use each of their five holy names. For example, the one called Kathegetes will not only inspire a brilliant plan when it's needed, but, like a good luck charm, can set enormous wheels in motion with just the smallest spectral push. That's why they called him the purifier of the eyes. Lutrotes can fill even a heart long unaccustomed to the sensation with a compelling desire to do what's right. He's therefore known as the purifier of the heart. Karpistes binds and neutralizes those spirits which oppress the human will, while Horothetes does much the same to the far more formidable, not to mention more physical, wills of living men and woman, and thus they are called upon as the purifiers of the will and of the body, respectively.

          As impressive as these powers are they come with the greatest potential price, and not the monentary one listed at As soon as any of these names are called, the Metagogeus is awakened as well, a karmic fail safe lurking in the shadows, watching and waiting to eliminate anyone who might subvert the divine function of these angelic agents of Grace. So, Caveat Emptor: Metagogeus, the across-taker, is nothing less than the Angel of Death itself. That's why they call him the purifier of the World itself and he simply cannot be bent to any single person's will.

          It is because of him that Simon Pure, like anyone else who might one day attempt to follow in his footsteps, is playing a very dangerous game, one which nearly always ends the exact same way; the only consolation being, at least, that some amount of good will always be done first, and THAT, seeing as how you've all been properly warned as to the possible consequences of calling on them, is precisely why I've shared their names with all of you here today. Good luck and Namaste.

Hacking the Mycilial Nervous System

              The Tall Whites are referred to by color only because they are truly indescribable creatures of polymorphic ooze. Fungi are known to thrive in outerspace but the Whites also seem to have adapted very well to earth's atmosphere, especially having only arrived in the last hundred years or so. 1.3 billion years before they found us, the very first life to appear on the earth's surface was fungus, 3 hundred million years before anything else would be able to survive here. The primary reason for that, of course, is that, at that point, there still wasn't any soil. Fortunately for all of us lesser life forms, fungus happens to be a very efficient terraformer, secreting acids and enzymes to break down rocks, leeching calcium, manganese, and iron from what begins as an inhospitable stoney crust but, especially over the course of millions of years, is ground into the soil from which most other terrestrial life springs, or will at least summer.

              Consider the parasitic fungus known as the Honey Mushroom, which can enter an ecosystem as a single microscopic spore. Its innate mycilial intelligence has been found to be staggeringly efficient, spewing forth vast networks of black filaments in all direction to locate its food, which, for this particular fungus, is thankfully restricted to plant life. You see, recently, in eastern Oregon, a Honey Mushroom was discovered that had been growing underground for 22,000 years. In that time it had reached a span of 3.5 miles, with an average depth of 3 feet. It's been estimated that this mushroom has slowly devoured the entire forest above it at least four times over, each time creating another thick layer of dirt out of which it's next meal will eventually spring forth, only to be inevitably devoured again once the unthinkably large Honey Mushroom's black tendrils decide to work their way up through the decomposed droppings from its previous meal. Today, this creature is not only the largest, but also the oldest, living organism on the planet.

              The fungus and animal kingdoms are, genetically speaking, more closely related than any of the five kingdoms on earth. In fact, 465 million years ago human beings and fungi shared a common ancestor, which diverged when our line chose to envelop it's food, while the fungus continued to digest its food externally. The introduction of a stomach lead to a need to build additional protective layers to contain moisture internally, and seven protective layers of skin to fight off invaders from the outside. For some reason fungus didn't need such thick skin to survive. The decision to become self contained envelopers caused our basic form of intelligence to evolve in completely different directions, such that our current thinking in organized from the outside going in, while all fungus cogitate inside out, which is what makes them such perfect symbiots. This becomes even more apparent when they start shutting down parts of your brain in order to make your thought process more like their own. While it's a feeling of great transcendence to even briefly touch a state not unlike the Mycelial Consciousness of the earth itself, I appreciate our own impressive approach to consciousness, if only for the hell of it.

              Ultimately, it is merely the nature of being human to be presented with a threshold, or more accurately thresholds, the transcendence of which, by the transhuman, the superhuman, the metahuman or even the molothian (“more-less-or-other-than-”humans) is considered such because they have transcended, or are now transcending, that which had once completely defined them.

              The free password to your next threshold experience at Superworld is “Moloths,” and can be redeemed with any employee, volunteer, or overly helpful player at all authorized Superworld location. Good luck and namaste.

Supervillian Alert: The Candida Altas

            To those few who've even heard of "Candida" it's often misunderstood as some form of extremely inconvenient food allergy, one which robs those afflicted by it of the ability to enjoy "the good things" in life, from pizza and apple pie, to cake, candy, cereal and soda pop, all the way down to beer and booze and buttered bread; basically, all those high carb, high sugar, comfort foods which most Americans have irresponsibly made into their daily staples. The actual truth, however, is far stranger, and far more terrifying, than you can probably imagine.

            Let's begin with a seemingly unrelated news story, one which briefly grabbed international headlines earlier this year when a major Iranian news agency reported that among the top secret files leaked by whistle blowing hactivist Edward Snowden were some Russian Intelligence documents which claim to have uncovered incontrovertible evidence that the United States, since about the end of WWII, had fallen under the control of extraterrestrials. These alleged documents refer to these aliens only as "the Tall Whites." Remember this name, because it will become important later.

            This particular "Tall Tale" made very little impact here in the States, beyond some conjecture that this was most likely Russian propaganda designed to turn international opinion even further against us. The Iranian story went on to claim that these Tall Whites where behind the Nazi Occupation of Germany, and that they officially moved their plans for world domination to the U.S. in 1954 when President Dwight D. Eisenhower foolishly made a deal with them in order to gain their assistance in fighting the Cold War. It's interesting that this is all alleged to have happened less than ten years after we now know that America had made a very similar deal with hundreds of Nazi scientists and intelligence agents as part of an Office of Strategic Services Black Op known as Operation Paperclip. Another interesting fact is that Eisenhower's collusion with the Tall Whites occurred just one year before he suffered a highly publicized heart attack, one which set off a chain of events that radically shifted the diets of all Americans, even to this very day. Of course, before the significance of any of these seemingly disparate facts can be made clear, I must first explain to you what Candida actually is, so, please, take a deep breath; This might get a little bit disturbing.

            Candida, in it's non-parasitic form, is a dimorphic symbiotic yeast, a type of fungus, that has successfully colonized the digestive tracts of every human being on the planet. Its natural unicellular form is unobtrusive and egg like, moderately breeding, while feeding on excess sugar, in our stomachs and small intestines. In this form, however, Candida is easily fed on in turn by the many other probiotic denizens of our digestive tract, keeping the population, and its impact on our bodies, well under control.

            However, when it's carelessly glutted on an over abundance of sweets, Candida quickly transforms into its far larger mycelial fungal form, eventually branching out from the stomach and intestines in a sprawling mass of nerve-like tendrils. These serve simultaneously as an externalized stomach and, as many mycologists now believe, an externalized nervous system as well, introducing a chemically manipulative form of co-intelligence into the human body the likes of which we're only beginning to really comprehend. Once its mycelial form has pushed through the lining of our stomachs and intestines, it enters the bloodstream where it can be carried to every organ in the body, including the brain. In fact, recent studies have shown that Candida's worm like mycelium are even able to cross the blood brain barrier.

            In the disturbing words of science journalist Ed Yong, “Orwellian dystopias, shadowy cabals, and mind-controlling supervillains—these are tropes that fill our darkest fiction. But in nature, they happen all the time.” Of course he's talking about the mind control that we observe being inflicted upon so many “lesser” animals in nature, such as the thousands of species of parasitic cordyceps fungi that make literal zombies out of things like ants, crabs, spiders, grasshoppers, crickets, etc. (The good news is that there's currently no known species of cordyceps that does this to mammals, much less humans; the bad news is that scientists estimate that we've only identified about 8% of the kinds of fungus that exist on our planet). Yong is also talking about the emerald cockroach wasp, which jacks itself directly into the brains of cockroaches in order to make them docile enough to pilot home to its nest, where they can be filled with its eggs. Then there's the argyraphaga wasp, the larva of which can actually reprogram the brain of the unfortunate orb spider that it's mother had briefly paralyzed and laid an egg on. This mind-controlled spider, baby wasp larva now clinging to its belly, will suddenly build a new web that's more conducive to the massive cocoon that this young wasp plans to build later, that is, after the baby wasp has finally drained this obliging spider of its last drop of blood. It's a torturous process of mental enslavement that stretches on for weeks, the spider completely unable to resist, and perhaps even completely unaware that it's being controlled and drained, the entire time. Finally, Yong is most certainly talking about the the protozoa Toxoplasmosis, which exerts very specific and purposeful influence over the behaviors of rodents, cats, and even, some scientists now claim, humans as well; As many of 55% of us in fact, but that's not the mind-control I'm currently most concerned about.

            Remember when the Russians said America was being controlled by the Tall Whites? Strangely enough, “Tall Whites,” when translated into Latin, is “Candida Alta.” Now, remember that heart attack that Eisenhower suffered back in '55? Well, this massive seven week long media event was directly responsible for kicking off our country's low-fat health food craze. While American's were still reeling from their newly minted fear of heart attacks, a scientific government study was released directly linking heart disease to the fat content of our foods, and the public quickly scrambled for any low-fat food products it could get its hands on. It was at this pivotal moment in history that our food industry began to dump massive amounts of refined sugar into artificially fat-depleted foods in order to make them actually palatable. In the years that followed, U.S. food producers would go on to develop things like high fructose corn syrup, as well as a host of artificial sweeteners, such as stevia, aspartame, sucralose, neotame, acesulfame potassium, and saccharin, all to meet this ongoing consumer demand for fat-free food; Without these changes, the explosive growth of the Candida parasite, which now infects up to 70% of America, would have never been possible.

            Ufologists have debated for years whether the almost dreamlike experiences of alien abductees are physical in nature or are they, perhaps, a purely psychic phenomenon, but what if it's both, except that the physical component is not at all what we were expecting? Many researchers have posited that these aliens are extraterrestrial, interdimensional, or supernatural, but what if they are, in fact, subcutaneous? There's just one last important issue I'd like to address here.

            According to U.F.O. researcher Dr. Karla Turner, “kidney problems, back problems, headache problems, nausea, unexplained rashes, hair loss, eye damage, and extremely bad gynecological problems are the common result, in many cases, of the abduction scenario.” She also notes a statistically higher than normal occurrence of cancers, often in people with no genetic predisposition for such, and the sudden onset of depression, alcoholism, as well as many other, medically anomalous, health problems. These are all issues that have also become associated with an overgrowth of Candida. An abductee herself, Dr. Turner's sudden death from cancer is still believed by many to have been induced by some agency that wanted to shut her up, but what if it's something much simpler, and much more direct, than all that?

            Oncologist Dr. Tullio Simoncini believes that the common presence of Candida within cancer tumors found all over the body is not merely indicative of the fungi's “opportunistic” nature, as most oncologists have always assumed, but rather that the rampant growth of this fungus is directly responsible for the upsurge in cancer rates we're experiencing today. Instead of radiation, Dr. Simoncini has been successfully treating all types of cancer with sodium bicarbinate, a potent anti-fungal. Unlike most other lifeforms on this planet, many fungus exhibit a rather extreme resistance to both UV light and radiation. In fact, they respond to radiation just like most other living creatures do to sunlight, i.e. it nourishes them.

            This also explains why the space station Mir had such unexpected issues with space fungus growing on the outside of the station and covering over the window hatches. Yes, fungus can and do survive even in the icy vacuum of space. It thrives there actually.

            I found a lot of other relevant information on this topic during my last few weeks of research, more than I want to overwhelm you with here. I know this is all rather strange already, so I've tried my best to keep this succinct, without going off on too many tangents, or spiraling out into levels of scientific minutia or conspiratorial speculation that might all too easily overwhelm or alienate some readers. I do encourage you, though, to do your own research, armed with some of the ideas I've posited here, so that you can best draw your own conclusions about what you think is, or is not, possible based upon all of the available information.

            The weirdest thing is that in the last few months, as I've been increasing my activity levels, I've been naturally gravitating towards many seemingly random dietary changes, which I now see all bear a striking resemblance to the Candida cleanses that I've only recently found online (Things like lemon juice, coconut oil, raw garlic, kefir, yogurt, a far more strict adherence to vegetarianism and a complete lack of appetite for sweets of all types). As is often the case, much of the information I found for this essay seemed to come to me quite suddenly and, initially at least, without my seeking it out. You don't have to agree with the connections between these things that I've made here, but I do hope that at least something you've learned here will help you to become happier and stronger and more able to help others to do the same. Good Luck and Namaste.

Beyond The Memory Palace: The Ministry of War

            Memory Palaces can be used for far more than just impressive feats of recall. In mine, among other things, I've built a War Room, where I can be alerted to specific dangers and given instant access to helpful information by a group that I call "The Ministry of War," masters of the various vexing avenues which human conflict can take.

            If this idea doesn't immediately make sense, just think of it as a vivid psychic interface for accessing unconscious wisdom, typically in response to some specific and relevant external stimuli. It's constructed like the Chambers for the Senate or the House of Representatives, or, in other words, like a theater in the round. Often I'll go there in meditation, just to talk out my problems and be advised of my various options.

            So, for example, my very closest and most trusted adviser is the highly esteemed Minister of Reason, flanked on either side by the Minister of Empathy and the Minister of Humor. However, just behind them sit the Ministers of Avoidance, Disapproval, and Distraction, as well as Ministers for Guilt, Bribery, and Politics although I would hardly say that I call on these last six as sources of guidance or sound strategy in my normal everyday conflicts.

            In fact, beyond those first three ministers who comprise my inner circle, all of the others are really only there to provide a more complete counsel against the full range of faces which human conflict all to often may assume. After all, I can't afford a blind spot in my field of vision just because some course of action is philosophically unacceptable for me personally. They, therefore, are also there to think the thoughts that I don't wish to think.

            And this is precisely why I also regularly confer with those in the back of the War Room, my so-called Shadow Ministry. Peering down as they do from their seats nearly up in the rafters, these are the dark and forbidden masters of Passive Aggression, Slander, Invalidation, Deception, Seduction, Sabotage, Intimidation, Violence and yes, even Murder.

            I have a Minister of Murder; I think everyone should. Regardless of your feelings on my personal choices for these phantasmic helpers, I think you can agree that the basic practice itself is a sound one and even something that you might wish to invest your own time in developing. I'd love to hear what you come up with. Til then, Good Luck and Namaste.

Zebuleon's War

           In the Revelation of Ezra it is written that there are 9 angels destined to rule at the end of the world. The first four are, not surprisingly, the most famous ones, Michael, Gabriel, Auriel, and Raphael, yet the other five, most angelologists assume, must still wallow in relative obscurity, since all that most angelic scholars know of them are their names. These are Aker, Gabuthelon, Arphugitonos, Beburos, and Zebuleon. Of these five, almost nothing else seems to have ever been recorded, except perhaps for the possibly unrelated fact that there is said to be, or to have been, an angel named Zubuliel, who's name means "the habitation of God." Interestingly enough, he was said to have been empowered to protect nine mysterious sealed doors, and it is for this, and other reasons, that some believe that these nine doors would very likely lead directly into that most secret and powerful of holy places, the very presence of God himself, but that if they were to be opened, the world as we currently know it would quickly cease to exist.

           Now, if I haven't bored you all too terribly already, allow me to share just one last piece of prophecy with you. My research suggests that the angel Zebuliel was always destined to fall, to not only abandon his post, but, at the appointed time, to throw each of the nine gates wide open, and to create the very future envisioned by the prophet Ezra. There are many indications that this day is already at hand, and that, as Zebuleon, a name which means "the Lion's Den," he is now serving as a precarious balance between the four heroic Archangels, who quickly occupied four of those nine open gates, and their very own shadows, who have somehow seized control of the others, save for the one held by Zebuleon himself.

           Now these angels must battle for control of a world that is literally flooding with the miraculous power of God, for better and for worse. Whose side will you chose in Zebuleon's Secret War, the Archangels, fighting to preserve humanity and what they see as the good of all, their dark counterparts, seeking to transform a select few into something far above humanity, or the enigmatic agents of the apparently fallen angel Zubuleon, whose ultimate aims have yet to be determined?


           Need more information? Well then, allow me to first introduce you to the Archons of the New Age:

Aker: "The Elite" An influential cabal which bestows seemingly limitless stolen wealth upon its chosen few and grants each of them enormous control over the ever expanding impoverished masses.

Gabuthelon: "The Lion's Paw" A secret society of fighters, hunters, and serial killers, viewing all other men and women as nothing more than mere sport.

Arphugitonos: "The Lords of Egypt" Keepers of both ancient secrets and cutting edge technologies, these specially selected insiders keep themselves in the know and all others in the dark.

Beburos: "The Beautiful People" A sex cult of thoroughly decadent epicures and mind control specialists, they command the spotlight, deciding who should be granted access to fame and recognition while shaping our very notions of beauty and pleasure.


           Then there are the Archangels:

Michael: "The Likeness of God" Battling for social equality and economic justice, Michael's workers struggle to not only feed and clothe the poor, but to also engineer the means by which they will be able to feed and clothe themselves.

"Until all of us are free,
none of us are free."

-Martin Luther King

Gabriel: "The Hero of God" In addition to bringing those who violently prey on the weak to justice, Gabriel's warriors serve as instructors and mentors to those brave enough to step up and fight the good fight.

"To Protect and To Serve."
-Former Motto of the L.A.P.D.

Auriel: "The Light of God" Shinning a light into the darkness, Auriel's watchers uncover and impart vital knowledge, to and from whomever and wherever the transmission of such knowledge will do the most good.

"And ye shall know the truth,
and the truth shall set you free."

-John 8:32

Raphael: "The Healer of God" Builders of community and compassion, Raphael's Ministers create safe and readily available healing spaces wherein the very best in all of us might be uncovered and shared.

"All you need is Love."
-John Lennon


           Finally, there's the Architect of the Coming Apocalypse:

Zebuleon: "The Lion's Den" A mysterious gate keeper who delivers recruits to each of the eight other factions in their currently ongoing war. It is said that he also retains a small retinue of secret apprentices just for himself, specially selected to walk an entirely different path than all of the rest. Even the Lords of Egypt don't know what they're really up to, or, at least, if they do, they aren't telling.

"Watch your thoughts; they become words.
Watch your words; they become actions.
Watch your actions; they become habits.
Watch your habits; they become character.
Watch your character; it becomes your destiny."

-Lao Tzu


           Choose, if only in your heart, and the game will begin. As always, Good Luck and Namaste.

Dreams of the NeOnieroMancers

            The power to dreamwalk, although always rare, was once known the world over. Those who mastered the art have gone by many different names, from Sonambulites and Sandmen to the Da Cho and the Batibat. They've been called Imagineers, Insiders, Deepwalkers, Neuronauts, and Onieromancers. It's a power credited to various mystical groups from the Chinese Linn Kuei to the Japanese Yamabusbi to the Korean Hwarangdo and the transnational Hashashin, to the Setians, Setites, and certain Sufis, and a smattering of Yogis, Swamis and Witches. Some groups, like the Benedanti, were great heroes, while the Maledanti used this power to greedily consume the very life force of the earth itself. Few people today seem to comprehend that a full quarter of human history has occurred, and continues to occur, entirely in the dream realm.

            Perhaps the most well documented dreamwalkers left alive are those who live among Australia's Aborigines. Protected by unthinkably Old Gods in a plush and vibrant dreamtime which remains too difficult and untamed for outsiders to properly penetrate, those Aboriginal shamans who were sheltered by an ancient dream race called the Wondjinni are believed to be among the few to have survived the devastating psychic event known as the Transaquarian Dream War, a bloody push on behalf of the world's greatest villains to consolidate an absolute control of the entire dream realm.

            Now, beyond the Aborigines' well insulated outback, the minds of sleeping humans have all but become the exclusive domain of these dark forces, or, at least they would be, if not for one other noteworthy exception: those under the protection of a wandering warlord known as the Morphean, the self proclaimed Pirate King of All Dreams.

            The oneirogogic nature off the Dream King allows him to create and control a variety of telekinetic haunts, immersive fantasies, fully embodied phantasms, disembodied voices, raw uncrafted ectoplasm, nightmares to ride almost anywhere on, emotional and mnemonic triggers, memory palaces, astral records, and anything else a dreamer might dream, yet despite this ability the Morphean chooses instead to pass directly through the most troubled and troubling dreams of others, viewing the contents of a dreamer's mind as sacred symbols of their true face. This talent for Dark Walking often makes him impossible for his enemies to locate.

            Within such places, however, his ability to conjure and command equally discrete servants, such as fetches, tulpas, and ideomorphs, is unparalleled. It's an occult power that he's more than eager to show any potential allies, especially those who wish to foolishly display such forbidden skills in the face of the current reigning Dreamopoly.

            While many speculate on the origins of this enigmatic dream warrior, the true identity of the Morphean remains shrouded in mystery. One story has it that he's the son of the god Hypnos, who was believed to have birthed 3 gods of the dreamworld in total, the mythical Oneiroi. Some say he is the immortal St. Germain, continuing his centuries long battle against the Senex, and his equally monsterous allies, who currently seem to have the dream realm conquered. Others say he's an ancient inhabitant of the realm who gained enough self-awareness and will to simply refuse to be conquered. Still others surmise that he may be a spontaneous by-product of so many billions of unconscious minds forced to dream in lockstep with the banal demands of their new dark overlords, the Saturnian Order of Melchizedek.

            He once told me about a dream god who's common name literally meant "Scary," but whom all the other gods called Icelus, a name which merely means "Semblance." At that moment the horde descended upon us, and I understood his meaning, and almost immediately I woke up.

            But not before I told him where you sleep. Good luck and Namaste.