Thursday, July 29, 2010

"And then I lost my steam."

(Baron Samadhi von Coppockalypse can be seen somewhere in The Guild's season 4 music video dancing. This man, I am told, is not the Baron. However, this image does have him somewhere in it - feel free to guess - he will make a convenient stand in. Also: my life is about to end. Very, very shortly. EDITED. >.>)


Function: noun

1. A: a sulfate of any of various metals (as copper, iron, or zinc); especially: a glassy hydrate of such a sulfate B: oil of vitriol

2. something felt to resemble vitriol especially in caustic quality; especially: virulence of feeling or of speech.

V.I.T.R.I.O.L.: “Visita Interiora Terra Rectificando Invenies Occultum Lapidem.” By Journeying to the Center of the Earth and Purifying (rectifying), I have acquired the Philosopher's Stone.

If you want to piss me off, and I mean really piss me off, you need only say one thing: “you're thinking too much.”

Sometimes, as the occasional despair kicks in, I worry that I live in a nation of dunces. Sometimes I worry that I just might be one, too. I don't like thinking about it, really, because it unnerves and disturbs me to an extreme degree. Now, don't get me wrong: I know I'm fairly intelligent. I've known that since I was 12 years old and my elementary school teacher engineered it so I had to take an IQ test to finally find out if I was mentally retarded or not. But what inspires venom – sulfuric, caustic words – to drip from my mouth is when someone tells me to stop thinking.

This has nothing to do with meditation to find one's center, or taking a step back and re-evaluating a given subject so that you might come to new conclusions; while I've seen various occultists make such remarks and agreed on occasion, I'm talking about the near-Orwellian nightmare of dealing with the folks that don't think, and happen to think you should stop thinking, too.

(And by right about then, I had already thought over the entire matter, scrubbed it with the baseness of what surrounded the subject, and discovered I was no longer pissed off. And thus no longer had any impulse to finish my intended rant. Fuck. I hate when shit works too well.)

Christianity, Blogspot, and Anne Rice

(This is probably the only good movie he's been in...)

A week after various Blogspot blogs began collectively Godmoding in unison (go, go Esoteric Christians! If only they had Power Rings like the kids on Captain Planet!) ...

... Anne Rice decided to stop being a Christian. (She's still big on Christ, however. Just not the edifice that stands in his name.) What does this mean? Is there a correlation?! CAN WE BLAME THIS ON RO?!

Okay. Okay. Probably not. But I found it to be quite funny.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Another Aside!

Austin Coppock, better known to readers of this blog as Der Baron is about to start the next wave of his Astrology courses.

If you're at all interested, I recommend the fellow without any reserve what-so-ever. Hell! If I end up with the cash, I just might take the course again!



Ignore the header. I grabbed a free layout (which fixed the changes I made when it self-updated... weird.), and so I'll have to cannibalize it at various times in the next few weeks so i doesn't look like total crap.

There's also only four entries up at the moment, and one of them because today is today.

But, you know what? Time to stop sitting on my hands.

EDIT: If your blog isn't linked, and you want it on the "blog roll" list, or on the eventual "Black Brotherhood" page either drop me a link with a link, or for the second, give me a banner for your blog. If I like it (and it's rare that I dislike blogs, actually), I'll be sure to add you.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

The Heretic Returns

“Oh, ye daemons of line noise and server bullshit, Know Your Place, motherfuckers! By rod and hand I chastise thee!

And all unwanted thoughtforms will be fed to The Dog.”
- Jack Faust's Semi-Uber Curse Against the Internet Archons!

“Hey, you aint as dead as you seem; what-the-fuck.”

- Saul Williams, WTF!

I was going to write about God, the universe, the sorcerer and shit...

… But I seem to be not allowed to do so. I say this with weird seriousness. See, I went to write a reply to R.O. three days ago. And then the internet went out; Comcast had a server explode or something. Whatever, right? Except that when their service resumed, our own did not. The server blocked us for unknown reasons.

Earlier this morning they fixed the problem. Or so we thought. I went to write about the same subject, this time with VI's last Cold Albion entry in mind. And then the internet went out again. At which point I got... pissy. I'd already been pissy when I had asked VVF to design the image above, and she provided the coolest stick-figure Viking a dude could ask for. (And a Bindrune. Which I suck at. Because this Futhark shit is weird, man. It makes me want to meditate on it...)

But then I charged it, uploaded the picture to facebook, and added that comment. And went outside to angrily have a couple cigarettes. When I came back inside, the Internet problem had fixed itself. No one knows what went wrong, or what fixed itself. But I like to think that occasionally back-handing the Digital Ether's Archons and Daemons helps a bit. What's funny is that works immediately because I have a ton of microcosmic charges to apply, and the other crap I'm waiting for just hangs in the air waiting for the path to open up. Mental note: re-strategize next time you do shit, Faustilocks.

Anyway. I will resume terrorizing The Internetz as a whole in the next few days.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

The Good, the Bad, and the WTF

(I was going to put a lovely image of Lilith that Unknown Binaries has drawn at the top of this entry... But... 'Eh. Another time if she's okay with it.)

The Good: Brotha B. has written two excellent blog entries this week that I feel deserve attention from anyone with interests that even remotely coincide with the subject matter: Channeling Diety vs. Regressive Trance, and Further Considerations on Godhead Assumption.

I have known younger Brit Trad Wiccans who have complained about some of the problems he brings up; and I personally encountered some similar issues with the eclectic coven that I occasionally discuss. I don't agree with all his thoughts, but it will be some time before I specifically form the thoughts around what I somewhat disagreed with. And I may honestly keep that to myself.

Jason's post about personality engineering is excellent. I loved it.

I discovered that one of my favorite artists, Unknown Binaries, is in a book on Lilith. Two things I like!

The Bad: Being the person that I am, that meant looking into the author... And I came across this interview. Now let me preface all of this: I am quite possibly the worst person, ever, to be saying this. When it comes to what some Neo-Pagans call “Unverifiable Personal Gnosis,” I just go... “Yeah, whatever.”

What you do? That's your business. If you have had a wonderfully Venusian experience as, say, a Dolphin while in a trance vision state? Okay, well, whatever. It's no skin off my back. And you're allowed to have whatever kinks you might have. And all that. Don't let me get in the way. Really.

I write about some of my more extreme practices only if:

  1. They are/were useful

  2. They are... shall we say, publicly acceptable on some level or another. If I keep something to myself, it's largely just because there is always a certain level of self-preservation you have to take into consideration. In this case, I'll just talk around a subject. Discuss it, say, historically or with narrative.

Furthermore, I hardly expect any of my blog readers to do anything I suggest as such unless they actually want to. If something squicks you? That's totally okay. I don't want to pressure you. I try very hard to avoid the whole “peer pressure” schtick because, for the most part, individuals are individuals and we all have different needs and different ways of processing things.

The WTF:

Being claimed by Odin happened very quickly, and a lot of it felt like it happened without my consent. (I have since learned that consent as a concept is much trickier–much more beside the point–than I understood at the time) Part of me felt that Odin was stealing me from Lilith, and this caused me to be somewhat outraged. As an unabashed feminist, who had left the patriarchal structures of Catholicism in my teens to embrace a Goddess-centered spirituality, being claimed by a male deity (much less as His wife) was just about the last thing I expected or thought I wanted. Considering Lilith’s history of unfair treatment at the hands of male gods, my love for Her made me feel as if She had been cheated yet again.

What I came to realize is that Lilith had negotiated this relationship with Odin, and She in no way needed my misplaced rage to protect Her. Speaking with Her one evening, by the light of a single candle, I learned that not only did She approve, but that I was getting what She had never had: a relationship with a god I loved. In the case of Her relationship with Yahweh, that had been denied Her. It was either Adam or exile.”

- Interview, Page 3.

And then I read this. And I... Maybe it's just way too close to home, and maybe I'm being closed minded.

But some part of me is squicked. In the worst possible way. And I'm not even sure I want to keep digging, because if what I suspect pops up? I'd probably be less than gentle with the subject.

Fiction and Aion

Regarding the last blog entry I was asked: “Now, what ritual were you doing and why?”

I was a little flummoxed at first. The last entry was almost entirely fictitious. And I suppose this requires a bit of an explanation...

I woke up about as annoyed as possible yesterday, largely with a specific person. (You're probably not that person.) I was annoyed enough that one of the possibilities I found myself considering was throwing my weight in the exact opposite direction of what they wanted. And this was, honestly, kind've unnecessary. They'd done what they'd done out of sheer stupidity, and I should not have been surprised that they were trying to buck accountability by bothering me. And, being as it wasn't the first time, I should have expected an exact simulacrum of the past.

So rather than do anything nasty, I decided to write something tongue in cheek. And I began with what came to mind, and then rounded everything around the question: “What is the most pompous magician I can dream up, but who still isn't a bad guy?”

Enter Fr. Pontificus Albinus Rex: “Brother Pontificating White King.” I imagine him looking like Christopher Lee, as a matter of fact. To heighten this, I grabbed memes that float around blogspot. “Christ is King,” taken as literal, was one that I recalled. And so it got used.

I've also seriously considered how many Grimoire authors and Renaissance occult authors had shaky hands. Because I was 17 once, and worrying about that made a lot of sense. It got used. (I chose Agrippa mostly because RO mentions him as much as I mention Austin Spare. For roughly the same reasons. Agrippa just... wrote more.)

The bits about Christ come from Morton Smith; the entity itself is something that probably does exist, but I've never met anything like it. I made that crap up almost entirely. The references to Moina Mathers and the Nephilim were totally deliberate, and largely because I have a perverse sense of humor.

But in retrospect, I did recently do a ritual that had an anthropomorphic entity attached to it, and led to a feeling of bliss. I did it between six to eight weeks ago, on a Sunday when the impulse hit. There was about a five minute vision state, but it was largely gibberish. No actual mirrors were involved, and there was a surprising lack of circles, too. (Gasp! Shock! Awe!)

I'm not convinced it worked. It'll take a few more tries before I formulate any thoughts. However, as it involves Aion, and it's lovely, I'll throw it in this blog. The Coptic bit at the top is not original to the ritual. The ritual may turn up again, later. We'll see.


- Coptic Prayer

“I praise you, the one and blessed of the eons and father of the world with cosmic prayers. Come to me, you who filled the whole universe with air, who hung up the fire from the heavenly water and separated the earth from the water. Pay attention, form, spirit, earth and sea, to a word from the one who is wise concerning divine Necessity, and accept my words as fiery darts, because I am a man, the most beautiful creature of the god in heaven, made out of the spirit, dew, and earth. Heaven, be opened; accept my words. Listen, Helios, father of the world, I call upon you with the name AŌ EY ĒOI AIOE YEŌA OUORZARA LAMANTHATRĒ KANTHIOPER / GARPSARTHRĒ MENLARDAPA KENTHĒR DRYOMEN THRANDRĒTHRĒ IABE ZELANTHI BER ZATHRĒ ZAKENTI BIOLLITHRĒ AĒŌ OYŌ EŌ OŌ RAMIATHA AEŌ OYŌ OYO ŌAYŌ: the only one having the original element. You are the holy and powerful name considered sacred by all the angels; protect me, (practitioner's name), from every excess of power and from every violent act. Yes, do this, lord, god of gods, IALDOAZAŌ BLATHAM MACHŌR PHRIX AĒ KEŌPH EĒA DYMEŌ PHERPHRITHŌ IACHTHŌ PSYCHEŌ PHIRITHMEŌ RŌSERŌTH THAMASTRAPHATI RIMPSAŌCH IALTHE MEACHI ARBATHANŌPS, creator of the world, creator of the universe, lord, god of gods, MARMARIŌ IAŌ. I have spoken of your unsurpassed glory, you who created gods, archangels, and decans. The ten thousands of angels stood by you and exalted the heaven, the lord witnessed to your Wisdom, which is Aion, IEOYĒŌĒ IAĒAIĒŌĒYOEI, and said that you are the sky to the depth of the earth; save me, for you are always ever rejoicing in saving those who are yours, ATHĒZE PHŌI AAA DAIAGTHI THĒOBIS PHIATH THAMBRAMI ABROATH / CHTHOLCHIL THOE OELCHŌTH THIOOĒMCH CHOOMCH SAESI ISACHCHOE IEROUTHRA OOOOO AIOAI. I call upon you, the one on the gold leaf, before whole the unquenchable lamp continually burns, the great God, the one who shone on the whole world, who is radiant at Jerusalem, lord, IAŌ AIĒ IŌĒ ŌIĒ ŌIĒ IĒ AI ŌIĒ AI AI OYŌ AŌĒ ĒEI IEO ĒYŌ AĒI AŌ AŌA AEĒI YŌ EIĒ / AĒO IEY AEĒ IAIA IAŌ EY AEY IAĒ EI AAA III ĒĒĒ IŌ IŌĒ IAŌ, for a blessing, lord.”

- Prayer to Aion. (Betz, The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation: Vol 1. p. 61)

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Valiant Hero and the Bull Thing

(Disclaimer: This blog entry is not meant to resemble anyone in particular. If anything, it serves as a reminder to myself of Exactly the Sort I never wish to be.)

We meet our Valiant Hero midway through the act of evocation itself. In his mid-forties, complete with medium length brown hair which is receding (this Hero will eventually be applying to join the Hair Club for Adepts), in a black robe, settled into one of the most uncomfortable Asanas imaginable. Around him has been scrawled one of Peter de Abano's more potent magickal circles, and he's facing the western quarter.

Outside the circle is a carefully made triangle, within which is a black mirror. Slid into the frame (to keep it in place) is the seal our fellow is using to call up his spirit. And let's not think this man a slacker; our Hero has tirelessly survived the mind bendingly dull the works of Arthur Edward Waite, in particular the Book of Black and Ritual Magick, not to mention Eliphas Levi, Aleister Crowley, and Dion Fortune. Waite was, of course, the hardest to read; but the good Frater dedicated a great deal of mental effort to surviving the contents with his sanity intact. He's learned to meditate in almost every Asana that he's ever come across; and, in only partial emulation of Aleister Crowley (the man was, after all, a bit liberal when it came to his quirky kinks) he's even learned how to maintain an erection while sitting in the most uncomfortable positions imaginable.

Alas, telling his female Lodge mates of this failed to impress them, as most of them are far more interested in having sex with Angels. While technically heresy in the eyes of the Catholic Church, they are on nonetheless solid ground when it comes to the Good Book. As suggested in Genesis 6: And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them, that the sons of God saw the daughters of men and that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose.

Our fellow, far from being entirely discouraged, has thus returned his eyes to the realms of the Angelic. And as he drags a chunk of the astral plane to coincide with his position in space and time, he feels the onset of Gnosis: soul turned Aflame, eyes unfocused, spectrums of color previously undetected blistering within his mind's eye. He's narrowed his focus on to the idea of entity and entity alone. Unfocused eyes turn to gaze upon the black mirror and his reflection within it. He speaks the Barbarous Names. And... it stirs within the mirror.

We might take a moment to discuss our entity, and the difference between what our Magus has evoked, and what he thinks he has evoked. Technically speaking, this Bull-headed entity with the horns of a goat and the eyes of a cat (at least from the neck up; who knows what lingers beneath?), is indeed an Angel. But only in that the word angel is derrived from the Greek angelos - meaning messenger - and of the class of spirits that this entity is part of, it is one of the few that respond. As such it is definitely a messenger of it's class of spirits. But that does not necessarily mean that it works under the employ of One All-Powerful, All-Knowing God named Yahweh.

And it is most assuredly quite old, and quite young all at the same time. Its influence spans across multiple universes, and multiple dimensions, and it is constantly aware of fluctuations and changes of an endless array in all of these, all at once. Including the room it has been summoned into; with the exception of the circle – which is a walled-off microcosm now – it exists within the room as an influence, and its focal point is the mirror itself.

“Christ is King!” Declares the Magus, one Fr. Pontificus Albinus Rex, and is pleased by the response from the entity. A sudden burst of imagery: the sun in all it's bright glory, with a golden crown sitting atop it. The good Frater, of course, interprets this as meaning that our spirit is in the service of Christ... Unfortunately, this means that it accepts the authority of a guy named Yeshua, who became the Son of a God (namely Yahweh), and was thus divine in nature, having taken on some of that deity's attributes. Anyone who did this with just about any god or spirit of sufficient power would, of course, also be liable to the authority of Sovereignty. But this pleasant distinction is quite lost on our man. And so he continues: “Oh, ye spirit! Will you show me the portion of God's Plan that you're endowed with?”

Silence. Nothing happens. The spirit is now analyzing the seal that's been used to help anchor it to this location; and it has noticed that three of the symbols inside it are corrupted; most likely by printer errors from books made by major publishers. Or possibly they got messed up as far back as Agrippa, who had a shaky hand. Not that any magicians alive in the 21st century would know that Agrippa had a shaky hand, but there it is.

None the less this means one thing: Fr. Pontificus Albinus Rex has no idea what he has on his hands. And he's asking stupid, arbitrary questions. And thus, under the guise of the high art of Mageia, our fine Frater is about to become this week's primary dupe. He's flooded with waves of telepathic images that constitute about less than a single percent of what our spirit does; and he settles into a more comfortable position as he considers what he's been shown. What he doesn't know is that if he was even remotely interesting, he might have then acquired a constant companion. One which would make the name of Christ ultimately irrelevant, since he'd be on the way toward the same (but hopefully different, and less crucified) end. Hell, he might even have asked: where can I meet a woman who would actually want to have sex with a guy wearing a dyed black hemp robe?

Our spirit, having fulfilled the task that allowed desire to bring it into this plane of existence, departs with the good will of the Good Frater. And though a feeling of bliss remains, Gnostic Good-Guy Feelings if you will, nothing has changed. The information our fine Frater has received has not made him better; it's merely made him feel better, and as such down this course of action shall he remain.

But our Valiant Hero will never give up. It's the Great Work, isn't it? And you can never give up on that.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Those Funny Influences

I felt oddly compelled to blog about the Magickal Papyri, Christ, Children of the Gods, and so forth today...

... And then I realized what. today. was.

So now I'm not going to impose my crazy on anyone else. Instead, today is play-time day.

Be seeing you.

EDIT: If I somehow failed to make something clear by being overly cryptic: today is a very, very good day for firing up the Stele of Jeu. Or, if you want me to get downright Diabolical: today's the day for giving the Angel with the Fiery Sword the slip and sneaking back into Eden.

EDIT #2: Eep. Wrong link on the solar eclipse. We had another earlier in the month...

... I've seen very little mention of this circulating. Do some folks not make use of these days for... certain types of operations? I'd love to know.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

As Another Aside

Mr. VI has unleashed Cold Albion, his new blog, upon the world. Proving that he's far, far less lazy than I.

And yes. I'll start responding to emails and such again soon. I just got... distracted... By Dragon Age. Which allowed me to earn these achievements and feel special: Last of Your Line Last of Your LineLast of Your Line

I failed to unlock the rogue armor in the Leliana's Song downloadable content. So, of course, I need to do that. Because, you know, I'm totally above trivial pursuits. Really.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Chemical Wedding

It has been alleged that I wrote the screenplay for the not-quite-so-recent Chemical Wedding, titled Crowley in the US. (You can stream it online with Netflix, and find it in the Horror section... In the – you guessed it! – Satanic Stories subcategory...) Mostly because it had Cybertronic Virtual Crowley, sex, and (why doesn't this surprise me?) golden showers.

Thankfully: I did not write that screenplay. Although I can easily imagine a writing a screenplay that might end up mangled beyond all belief into roughly the same film. It fills me with dread, and helps me renew my commitment to writing in Pulp-tastic blogs.

Anyway. I tried to watch the film. And at first, I almost enjoyed it. It had a purple pimp suit (I know, you're shocked), Crowley-Space/VR/Whatever. Cue sex scene with Red Haired Woman. Cue scene leading to the Murder of a Prostitute. (Wait, what?) Head into the Rites of Eleusis... Ah, that's right. Golden Showers.

So. Maybe I'll finish it later. Or not. Semi-final judgment: Thelemites will be vindicated in knowing that the Crowley-wannabe is a wannabe who's acting like he thinks Crowley would. Or something. Feminists will most likely be offended by the Entirety of the Film's contents. Most viewers will most likely feel mildly degraded. Most Metal Fans will Agree That It's Very Metal. And about an hour and a half of your life will Never Be Returned.

On the other hand, it's still better than an Uwe Boll film. My standards have considerably lowered over the years.

“Well, yes. But I've seen that.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

It had to be asked.

Via Z.E. Accordino: I... I have no words for this link. But I felt that the world (or some vague approximation of it) really did need to read it's crazy contents. And such a thing begs the question: are there actually spandex wearing Kick-Ass fans out there secretly battling one another?

Friday, July 2, 2010

Blurring the Lines

“I was now working with that occult force, electricity, and here was a possible chance to make some discoveries. I felt sure spirits could not scare an electrician and they might be of use to him in his work.”

- Thomas Watson.

Norma recently asked about further discourse on magick, narrative structures, and blogs. I've been thinking about how I'd try discussing that, and I decided that I'll hold off on the topic itself and instead talk about some of the outlying or surrounding areas of interest, at least prior to discussing narrative and magick. Maybe I'll do the latter elsewhere and very soon. Instead I'd like to take a moment to point at Mr. VI's latest post, and just smile. At least for now!

The Electro-Magnetic Imagination & New Technical 'Spaces'

We imbue certain words or thoughts with 'mythic substance,' whether we realize it or not. From the get-go, Electricity was seen as an alchemical agent and it has not been until very recently that the mythological structures around the subject have begun to fade. It should be noted, however, that almost all the innovators involved in the rise of today's techne were also involved in... strange experiments. One might take, for example, Nikola Tesla who was the early Lord of Resonance. By the time of his death Tesla had over 700 patents in his name, and his brilliance is quite simply undeniable.

Erik Davis, in the excellent Techgnosis, writes:

the reason that Tesla cuts such an enigmatic figure is that he seemed to possess an intuitive, visceral, almost supernatural knowledge of the electromagnetic mysteries, and investigators are still picking up the strings he left dangling. According to Tesla's own memoirs, his inventions sometimes popped into his head fully formed, as if he had simply downloaded the prototypes from the astral plane. The notion of a motor capable of generating alternating current – perhaps his most important invention – came to the young engineering student one day when he was strolling with a friend in a park in Budapest. Moved by the stunning sunset, Tesla recited a verse from, of all things, Goethe's Faust; in a moment “the idea came like a flash of lightning.”

Davis' work explores the mysticism and magic that seemed to inform the rise of techne into man's hands, and how it's evolved over time. From electricity and weird spirits – to communications that Nikola Tesla thought he was receiving from Mars and Venus on his giant radio transmitter – the spectrum of human investigation has almost always held nigh Promethean qualities to it.

Whether those hard-nosed science freaks like it or not, phrases like “electricity” and “energy” have almost always held mythological functions; electricity was seen as a form of “ether” initially, in fact. I'm focusing on electricity in particular because it's history and innovators lend themselves easily to this topic; I could, however, also talk about the sheer number of occultists and neo-pagans involved in today's communications technologies. More and more are becoming web-designers, cranking out virtual code for a living, or working as technical support and sometimes even on the innovative side of things. (I honestly wonder how many neo-pagans work for Blizzard Entertainment...)

The reason, I suspect, is something Davis brought to my attention years ago: “new technologies of perception and communication open up new spaces, and these spaces are always mapped, on one level or another, through the imagination.”

And Suddenly It Felt a Little Bit '90s
One of these days I'm going to write the TeleNecronomicon, or Book of Dead Telephone Numbers.”
- DeusExMachina

Chaos Magick in the 1990s extended itself to a variety of structures, but one of the more pervasive elements was the then-emerging notion of “Cybermagick.” Fr. UD recently brought it back to the table in his first volume of the High Magick books. It has a much older history, however. One of the tales Darth Hilarious is fond of telling you seems to revolve around how in “the Old Days” they'd create custom programs to flash brightly light monitors at the Quarter positions to enhance elemental presences and so-forth. Which actually sounds more 1980s, and brings to mind using the Ninja Turtles to protect your Circle of Power or some shit.

But this illustrates only one of the many places where adding in technical 'stuff', Dionysian theatricality through techne, shines through. And lest you once again think this is anything new: Greek inventors were quite fond of creating “moving” statues or statues of the gods that seemed to “speak,” and the spectacle created by machina in the name of the Gods was very much in fashion even in the Roman Empire. All of that aside: during the 1990s TIAMAT-L and the Z-List formed two places where both magick and information-age technology might come together.

In any event: one of the more amusing experiments that TIAMAT-L (Testing the Internet As Magickal/Aethyric Tool List) tried seems to have evoked an Undine... A nice big Sacred Daemon of Line Noise.

On my personal end, I followed the advice of LOON's APIKORSUS and used dead TV stations (which now seem to be vanishing from the public memory) to scry. I've written about digital poppets for binding spells. I plan to stick LEDs and a microcontroller in my wand. (And now you can start realizing that I'm a complete heretic that claims to be a “traditionalist,” but totally isn't.) Give me enough time and I'll probably try to stick LEDs in Black Mirrors. Because I can totally figure out how to use that, too.

In the end I suppose, while trying to avoid making a phallic joke, it isn't the tech. It's really about how to use the tech, and what you decide to place value on. Although that last bit is heading into Nietzscheian territory. And maybe I'll head there later. Or maybe not. But I do happen to know someone who's written this. And I quite liked it.

Thursday, July 1, 2010