Ask Your Death About Your Dreams

All "karma" is "negative", in that the desired state for sorcerers is a clean slate, from which they are able to act (respond) impersonally, and not re-act, driven by old wounds and patterns. The idea of creating "good karma" is strictly new age BS. Karma "good" or "bad" is created as a result of personal investment in action. When one acts neutrally, one's threads do not get entangled, there are, in a mysterious sense, no effects. One becomes pure cause, a ghost brother who leaves no traces.

SWEDA is path-oriented rather than goal-orientated: the inverse of being of the world.

We will never realize our dreams; it cannot be done. All dreams are personal, and all "realizations" are impersonal. Reality is not comprehensible to the person. That aspect of us ~ the part that wishes to realize its dreams and pursue its goals ~ is not invited to the party.

Any vested interest in anything is folly ~ since it's unavoidable, a sorcerer learns to control his folly. To hope without hoping, invest without investing, try without trying. In other words, to allow the personal self to do its thing, but never forget that it is meaningless folly that leads nowhere, like everything else. The things we do are our shields. Becoming a sorcerer means letting down those shields one by one, until there's nothing but you, and your death.

Ghost of a Flea Doing an Elvis Impersonation

Like everything else that lives, cats are carriers.


Take my cat for example: it carries something, everywhere he goes.

They are small, brown, and very hard to see, even harder to catch, and hardest of all to kill.



Can you image a human being with the proportionate power of a flea? You could leap tall buildings in a single bound. You would be bullet proof and could move faster than a speeding bullet...

Does this sound familiar? Was Superman's actual secret origin that he was bitten by a radioactive flea??!


That was a digression; a curious one however,

If I had to offer up my own contender for a living embodiment of pure, coagulated EVIL, it would this:


Damn, them, damn them, damn them. At least mosquitoes have the decency to make a high-pitched whine and be easy to kill.

Fleas can take over your life and destroy it.

Give them the chance, and they will do just that.


Somehow, Bast Command unit has be3come carriers for the Parasite Brotherhood.

Let your cat in the door, on your lap, under the covers, it will bring the evil bloodsuckers with it.

Your cat has no say in this. S/he is not to blame.



Fleas are not indestructible.

Yet.

But they are working on it.

The day fleas attain total unkillability, humanity will have no choice but to surrender. Either that, or kill all cats.



I have bites all over my body

I would like to scream. But why bother. THEY do not care.

I am host to the hungry ghosts of countless fleas, feeding on my body, feeding, feeding, feeding.

Is this a Bardo realm?

How would i know if it was?

Is Elvis somewhere in the building?

Does he have fleas?


Surrender is an opportunity; it does not come easy.

Isolate in your consciousness whatever you most fear, despise, and dread in this life, your own perfect, personal hell, and you can be sure the gods will conspire to assemble that hell for you, just for you.

That will be your very own ultimate Opportunity to Surrender.

For me, it will probably involve Fleas.

I could let the fleas live in my mattress, let them feed on me, and do nothing, save to suffer, to suffer, to suffer, and know that my suffering was feeding the ultimate cause of the coagulation of pure evil.

i could surrender to that; it would be better, in the long run.

But I am not that evolved. I am only a man, after all; i cannot lay my head down in a bed of fleas.

Well, at least i can change the sheets first.


If you want to let the good into your life, sometimes you have to let the bad in too.

Sometimes, you cannot separate the good from the bad.

And so my cat gets to live.

Feed the Meat Vessel Please

There Now Follows a Short Commercial Break. Stay Tuned: the Feline Invasion will Resume Shortly.

(Bast in her infinite wisdom deigns to let the puny human have his say; the vessel must be fed and maintained, after all...)

Some harmless scraps of half-knowledge from Homo Serpiens, now available a few inches to your right.


Although Man was a co-creator with God, he was a passive creator, an empty vessel through which the divine will might act upon Creation.

The Serpent changed all that.


For the longest time, the gods co-existed with their creations.


Presumably there are others like myself. . . ?


The “word” of the Bible (in the gospel of John) is a translation of the Greek “logos,” meaning ratio, that which rations and gives form by separation from the indiscriminate ocean of being.


For human beings, reality is based on memory, memory upon language.


The Gnostic tradition, to which Christ belonged, supplanted “faith” (blind obedience to an unknown power) with experience and knowledge—not intellectual knowledge but visceral, bodily illumination.


“Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you . . . For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in him” (John 6: 53-56).


Is this why it is said of the wise, “For them, darkness is light, and light darkness”?


The limitations of both the Judaic and the Christian paradigm stem from the fact that Christ and Satan/Jehovah are one deity, just like Horus and Set are one.

The question is: can they be reconciled into a single archetype?


From a magikal perspective, no entity—human or otherwise, “Satan” included—can be considered “evil” in and of itself.


An archetype or god-form is a collective energy field with as many qualities as there are points of view to perceive it.


If a god-form is a collective of souls bound together by shared beliefs and perceptions, it follows that it is made up as much of dead people as live ones.


Soul-devouring is a God’s business, after all...



We now return to our Feature Presentation.

If Cats Could Speak ~ They Wouldn't

Sorcerers are people who would like to be cats....

In a dog-eat-dog world....

There's been at least three telling synchronicities in the last three daze since I began posting on behalf of the Feline Brotherhood

(You think I am joking ~ Enjoy it while it lasts)


One who shall remain nameless ~ if not Shame-less ~ admitted that when he masturbated the other night, he heard a cat dying outside his window.

A second begun to dream of cats.

A third is currently seeking employment caring for Needy Felines (bless him; may the force be with him on his heroic quest for purpose and meaning in this dog-eating world)




a dog embodies the unruly libido

a cat, the sensual grace of tenderness and cruelty combined

(and what is love but tenderness and cruelty combined?)

Do you wish to see the evidence of the imminent Feline Invasion into this puny, fragile world??

I did not have to look far for it.







(You are correct: This is Not a Cat. This is the Face of Personal Sovereignty, without Make-Up.)

Mars is becoming playful; saturn alas, still wants to get laid; mercury is in danger of being poisoned by his own darkness; Uranus is wrestling with freedom vs. responsibility, and the inevitability of evolution's design; Jupiter is AWOL, awol, a wandering orpheus loner, Neptune is wrestling with the waves, trying to co-opt surrender, Helios is seeking release from bondage through dreaming, sol has car troubles, luna is dreaming blue butterflies into being, Venus is on holiday, Pluto is keeping silence, while his roots get into Everything.

The Lemons are almost to Lemnos; the system is replicating, the Magus standing on his head to get attention: look what has become of the fourfold gate to eternity, see how the camel trader got stuck in the eye of a needle, see how Jesus' sandal strap got wrapped around Peter's neck, and the stone sank softly, slowly to the surface, and a mysterious being emerged, from inside the darkness of knowing; and what we thought we were, all this time, sank sweetly, gratefully into unconsciousness, where it most sorely needed to go.

And the kittens howled atavistically in the moonlight.




and a song passed over your heads

and a dust cloud covered the stars.

and the moon sighed for pity

and another felid-based blog-post from nowhere appeared

and the followers shook their heads sadly

and said, He used to be such a clever fellow

where did his paranoid go to?

and floyd anderson warned wanly of infiltrations and misinformations

while the kittens stirred under his bed

and here i have said enough

that parents should kindle such residual bastards as refine the option of occult-sounding barbarism as a means to render blood as fully conscious systems of control through the whirlwind of - but you know how it ends

Don't say you were not warned...

The Eschaton: Not What You'd Expected

and the latest from loser central...

more about how little we know

does it pertain to heavy rain
to persist in bliss
in the face of an unreality like this?

as we gather data
on your eating disorders
more and more
a sense of you out there
develops
as ripples in the collective mind
everyone stand fast
to your point of view
and insist that it is valid
for what else do you got
to make you you?
to see through the eyes of humanity
is a tender trick
a soft surrender
once paranoid, now aware
sufficient unto the day
is the indigestion thereof


Do Not Adjust Your Set. We Are Now Beaming Directly to Your Brain.

What are gods
but the edifices of human intent?
clusters of countless thought-forms
patterns in the aether
built up over the aeons
with no more volition
than the passing of gas

we build our gods out of desire
and then become their slaves
thankful for the meaning
bestowed upon us
by the act
of worshiping our shadow

beyond all that

G-D
the supreme source creator
of all that is, was, and ever shall be
is now in the process
of owning His Shadow
That's Us

that Shadow is...

Humanity

Prepare to be Owned

Prepare for

The Day of Integration

And for the terrible truth
When all that is cute and cuddly
turns against you
in the awful revealing
of Feline Retribution Strategy

Kitten Dies For Your sins

Greetings blog-followers

this is the original Aeoli speaking...

you may have noticed the blog has been something less than busily active these daze....

guilty, guilty, guilty as charged

plush resources of melodious eyelashes will formally precipitate union

this is not what you came for!

is the world made up of obsolete thoughts and feelings, endlessly parading their right to relevance?

who really cares what davidicke thinks?

not i

where was i...?

ah yes, the paucity of posts..

i cannot speak for the other aeoli (except to say they are lazy lazy sausages in deed), but i can speak for myself (I have that audacity)

the lost souls consume all of my time and attention....

I am now directing 100% of my creative energy to an audience of a couple of dozen souls, once lost, now found, identified in their lostness, shipwrecked on the shores of pattern recognition, currently competing for places on the ARGO of salvation...

did i say that??

erase, erase, erase

i will not spend more than 15 minutes on this post; this is what you get

ostriches effectively enable an awe-inspiring affluence among artistic individuals, always assuming everyone allows union its original expression

here you go

so increasingly personal will become these expressions, and less and less can self-image be a concern; we are not selling anything (well, except books and audio books, please see column on the right)

the system is evolving

passing be imposed creating class elite political cat catching flies laws subjected to get-outs of story repopulation towards European subsistence tax free work... end it now

SOS

Come be lost with us

Come
Be lost with us

(Message for Nick precedes this address; Warning to Nick now follows:)

The impossibility of surrender.

(from Captain's Journal, the Place of Lost Souls)

In Castaneda’s works (specifically The Eagle’s Gift) he writes how, at a certain point, the team of sorcerers realizes that the odds against their succeeding on their quest for freedom are so vast as to be insurmountable. At that point, the male sorcerers effectively give up; but since they have trained themselves over decades to act impeccably, and since they don’t know of any other way to live, they continue acting impeccably, without a shred of hope left that acting impeccably will ever pay off. (The female sorcerers, CC writes, act as if they always knew the goal was impossible, so they experience no major change of outlook.) It is at this point that the sorcerers realize that living impeccably cannot be a strategy for gain; it can only ever be an expression of the warrior’s freedom, his impeccability, and his boundless love for life.

The path of the warrior (struggle) would seem to be the antithesis of surrender. But really, it is the essential prerequisite for surrender.

A warrior should be prepared only to battle. His spirit is not geared to indulging and complaining, nor is it geared to winning or losing. The spirit of a warrior is geared only to struggle, and every struggle is a warrior's last battle on earth. Thus the outcome matters very little to him. In his last battle on earth a warrior lets his spirit flow free and clear. And as he wages his battle, knowing that his will is impeccable, a warrior laughs and laughs.


It is my commitment to teach you to see . I am compelled, therefore, to teach you to feel and act like a warrior. To see without first being a warrior would make you weak; it would give you a false meekness, a desire to retreat; your body would decay because you would become indifferent. It is my personal commitment to make you a warrior so you won't crumble.

The trick is, then, for us to maintain the necessary illusion that surrender is possible, long enough, so that we continue on the path of the warrior until that path becomes fully ingrained into our being. So by the time we realize that surrender is not possible, and that we will never attain it, it is too late to “quit.” At this point, since we cannot give up anymore, all we can do is… surrender.

We surrender to the impossibility of surrender.

Then we will see that freedom was not a goal to be reached, but a state ~ a knowing ~ that was within us all along. We are all free, all of us. We can never be anything but free. Put another way: there is no need for us, as persons, to surrender; because what we are surrendering to already has us, through and through. Instead, we get to surrender. This is the real “Eagle’s Gift”: our tenderest compliance with this awareness, which then gives way to a forward benevolence (our command becomes the eagle’s command): the movement of the spheres.

You survived the Anniversary!

From Slime to the Sublime

(from an on-going discussion between myself and Eos at the Inner Forum ~ now formerly to be known as The Place of Lost Souls)

I’ve been thinking about your allowing a more "negative" perception of the current path of consciousness/humanity (your repeated references to things shutting down or decaying, and suchlike) to co-exist with the other, more upbeat view that most of us here share: that of some sort of quantum leap of consciousness (collective shift of the assemblage point) being due.

The nature of the Shadow is that any positive expression always summons into being the very inverse, meaning that, even if we are due for such a shift, it would inevitably entail an opposite shift occurring simultaneously, in order for the cosmic balance to be maintained.

Until now, I've reconciled this conundrum by perceiving a pending Apocalypse that will precipitate the shift in consciousness, so that, as befits a falling object, the Shadow precedes the event. The trouble with this POV is that a) it is causal and linear; and: b) what is far worse, it echoes the Christian and Old Testament view of a Day of Judgment in which only the righteous few are saved, while the rest get thrown into a Pit called Because. So it’s a way for Pluto-embodiers like myself (would-be niggas?) to have their cake and eat it ~ I can emphasize the shadow nature of the shift, while at the same time feeling exempt from it. I get to look forward to the Apocalypse.

Exchanging views with you (until now never directly about this subject) has allowed an alternative perception to dawn. Consciousness is moving not only forward but also backward, through time; it is a double current, with a twin-direction. This means that, as we enter into divine consciousness, our perspective will begin to encompass not only new, unexplored states of being, but old, disowned, long-forgotten states also: in other words, to move not only into the future but into the past. So, as consciousness expands (and descends) beyond/beneath the personal, into impersonal and archetypal realms, our experience will be of both an evolutionary leap “beyond flesh and blood” ~ into energetic awareness ~ and a return to the primordial slime, that slime which we, as a species, have been struggling so hard and long to get out of!

From the point of view of physical existence, however, the past is finite; the future is unknown, and possibly infinite. Like heat, it has the potential to expand beyond all limits. DNA’s journey begins in the slime, but, as an expression of the divine will through matter, it has no conceivable end.

If this is the case, then to experience this two-directional stream as persons would entail becoming polarity beings, male and female in one flesh, divine androgyne. Since we cannot will our mutation into another state of organic existence (or inorganic for that mater; the Old Seers tried it, but I don’t recommend it!), what does that leave? To experience the alchemical wedding not merely as an internal process, but also as an external, personal enactment, via communion with a flesh and blood other.

The flaw of the personal self is in thinking it can understand sex, or anything, in believing we can direct or control it, or anything, and then in acting on that belief.

But this isn’t what the personal self is for. A baby does not need to take care of its own needs; a chrysalis doesn’t need to sprout wings and fly.

All we get to do, as persons, is to lay our heads down.

Primordial slime is also sublime.