If I should die,
Think only this of me,
That there’s some corner of a foreign field,
That is forever an ashtray…
Decades ago in high school some fucked up kid asked me what I’d do if I woke up and discovered my male genitalia had been replaced by female genitalia. I responded, “I’d feel myself up.”
Magick is a hard slog or at least it is for me. I had few worthwhile, natural Magickal talents. Every advancement was hard gained and at high cost. I got involved decades before the internet, at about the time President Richard Milhous Nixon resigned. Relied on old, yellow-paged, municipal library books I couldn’t understand and nasty, next to useless paperbacks from newsagents and supermarket chuck out shelves.
Whilst other, perhaps more virile, teen boys were out and about, I was trying to understand and perform Magick. It was a lonely and isolating time. ‘What did you do over the holidays?’
‘I tried to convince myself that it was worth the exorbitant price I paid for Crowley’s 777 imported paperback. Then I tried to consecrate a talisman, but fucked it up because…’
This is why I retain a jealousy, indeed loathing for Magicians who never knew Magick without the internet. But I also appreciate the inherent danger of easily accessible internet Magickal materials. That’s just me – old fashioned.
Twenty-six years ago, I got involved in my Great Work.
In mid-2006 a raid took place on my home. After the raid I eat a dry bread roll and gulping down a mug of tea for lunch. Then I went to my room, closed the door and performed the most powerful working I ever have – to date, anyway. Didn’t take long as I was fully charged. When finished there was a circle on the carpet around me, formed by my sweat.
About forty-four hours after said raid I received a telephone call which I used to send a website via an email. That altered the global future. The Australian media knows a little, but won’t publish because of a Defence Advisory Notice issued in 1997. I can’t publish online because Aeonic Magick is inter alia political (although not party political and it works on timelines of centuries). Moreover, there’s the 4th Law of the Sphinx and I can’t break it.
In 2010 I got involved in black propaganda. My material was published in book form by David Icke – he allegedly held up the printing to do so. Henry Makow has maintained my propaganda. More recently it’s been getting real, global, albeit weaker than needed results. That stated, time will tell and I can afford to watch – comfortably numb - from the grandstand.
That same high school sicko once asked me what I’d do if I discovered I was pregnant. And I remember advising that there’s no doctor in the world will give me an abortion, so I’ll opt for a caesarean – but first I’d hire a publicist so I can make as much money as possible, invest it and then discreetly retire.
I don’t know or care what happened to that odd, high school, Wednesday sports’ afternoon acquaintance – more than forty years ago.
Al.