Occult Fan

Master no Self

Month: June, 2016

WoWBoBWoW

The name WowBobWow is made of two words, which both resemble themselves twin peaks, Wow, and Bob.

Then the main symbol is uttered to be a doubling or twinning or mirroring of the of Wow, which is a sharp versus soft, so it is itself male peaks versus female peaks which is a one peak versus double peak, so shiva versus shakti, energy direction.

This serves to multiply the force of the form in several diamondesque fractals – the expansion of the success of the project!

And the Form of Course Forms the Force in to the Shape of an Owl…

WoWBoBWow – the wings are the w, the b is the bobbing head, of natch!

Note the wings are facing downwards

Fire: Walk With Occult Fan

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Fate Palm Date Calm

Women/girls see their world through the lens of their own personal adventure. To be an effective male attractor, you must play to their sense of deepest self, and mystery. Be forward and firm and probing while remaining aloof. Their subconscious reflexes are created to react to this archetypal paradigm. Make her see herself as if she is part of an adventure. Make her feel as if she is unique but normal with just enough to make her fit in but be rebellious.
You’ll find that in no time, this philly will rear her little head right up next to your saddle and you’ll be riding high all night long, Cowboy.

Be(autiful)ast of Night

cut me open

as I die in your arms

covered in my blood

as I was rapt by your charms

I love to feel my self

getting pulled under

your terrible divinity

your curves of thunder

rolling rippling sheets ‘n sheaths

hold you close heart beat and moaning

you kill the night’s silence with your

churning curdling emotional triumphant

siren, my darling, my partner in ritualized suicide

for us to survive

we must become passion beyond time

to me ye cleave

and flesh be moan the fine line of your sinking in mine

hold my hand our gaze my mind love you this night

this life

this time

wet and fine

your hair

pretty smile

killer guise

what a sprite

my animal

my beast of night

Smile! Everyone dies at The End!

Rather, everyone lives

but only you die

at thee end

and that is

what you have been

crucified

on

your

shackles

of opine

ions

such that are to alarm the sweet feather and heart

the blood boils over in frieze over Narcissus

tantamount to pantomiming “new light’s revolution”

nature always held the cure

the lightshames held only confusion

Dimluminothings, rather…

asitwere

sotheysay

somoteitbe

tra la la

la la

lo ho

tee-hee

Suffocatari [8 Legs]

Weaving spiders

tread not thee on near this place of

molestation and bigotry and

inflammation

creation made vacation

teddy bears fake and sick nicks

blood on the towel blood on the ground

brooding over trowels and

obligations

Jah

bu

lon

lost in the woods of for

nication lost in the woods

no star in sight not even the pole

you love to slide on

the eleven

twin towers

now one

but

whore, us

what have we done?

Tidal Night

They hang you high at noon

and rule the result a suicide

the day light disappears

beneath the roaring of the tides

and there is no mercy from insanity

and you call your god your tv

dying of thirst in a fresh spring pond

you know not what it is that you be

Everything Goes Now

I see my Pageant within the ‘city’ walls and I behold a Triumph.

Sweet instead, in the deed of grove and copse and landtendedagain

Her modern crops are not withered, no, For She Taos Eternal.

The shoulder she shows me, a tattoo from the night before

Mine, all Mine. This sorcery now she spells milky stars

My mouth moves to make her sing

The tornado ages ago in the valley of 47 and 17

holds shoppe in the sweet river of eternity

the kindly kindred spirits ten, thirteen

nine, eleven, twelve, twenty-two, forty-two

ninety three

licking the bays of cactus thorns, moaning binary

I love you all

I truly do

I awaken to the game

there are no sides

there is only

Happening.

And Blood.

Who Am I? What Am I? Stonefireairwaterspirit

The mangled corpse of a wrong blog

The intensity which I possess is powerful indeed.

I’m wincing still as I listen to my self express this power.

It is wasted.

I am editing my OFRH. For the clip show for the weekend show for the bronze level listeners.

You listen here. It is excruciating.

I am made of many forces. I’ve led an interesting life full of unique to the common person experiences which all culminate in this as-of-yet uninitiated individual’s awareness is just having a TIME swimming in this new information, while becoming aware that one is part of an awareness itself and disregarding this as extemporaneous to one’s true self-advancement as a mortal animal evolved to become a rational being.

I feel a fire inside. So potent. I know I am powerful.

To focus, to learn to focus, to cultivate the dreamstate plans we all hold from the ether plane and then begin to manifest… well, let me tell you. I began to manifest my radio show. Have a plan set up for subscribers, forums, helpful advice, recipes even for sake.

So it’s actually a sort of shock to feel my self recoiling to listen to what I am hearing when my own voice comes through.

This is intense, to feel the different planes of existence. See. I have this need to be understood and felt, so I am clear about so much, because frankly, the very experience itself interests me and is what I feel compelled at the very same time to express my self best with as it does in of itself resonate with that efficacy inbuilt, so I use it.

My energy, at the time I am recording, I recall all three days, just, feeling so natural, it felt so nice to be so intimate, just let loose. And then I heard what had come out. Ever get really drunk and stoned and coked out and then done any other number of mind-altering drugs, like television, pornography, video games, bus stop advertisements, and cereal boxes filled with more poison than to kill a moose, it felt so good just to let loose, but…

I have got some intense shit in some parts of me that when a different part comes, and this is directly without needing to finish why initiation of some sort is necessary. Consider it a contemporary non-ashkenazi/sephardic et al triskadectaexpialidocious, less chairs, what-not.

So the truth be told, I freaked my self out, I made my self almost curl in to a ball, I almost vomited, and at some points I had to stop editing, and even at others when I kept to the millstone, I just cropped and cut and cut and cut cut cut. That felt better. Cutting MUSIC and WORDS feels good. Please retain your cutting to these and veggies, and finely grown buds. Mmm. So.

It feels good to be intimate, but holy crispin glovers golden 14th. I just can’t even fathom who how what I am still. And this is so personal. I’m putting this out there in the awareness that there are good, evil, and neutral forces. It’s a game, and it’s real, it’s a war, and it’s a salvational evolutionary state, and then there’s the whole idea of ‘winning’.

See, I’ve been steeping my self in some awareness enhancing material as one is wont to do, and still without having joined any rituals or lodges what-so-ever, so fresh am I here, that the very nature of my having donned the Occult Fan mask now seems to be fate.

I don’t use that word lightly, although, I do. Too often off ten I find my self being mercurial and quite capable of moving in many directions at one time, yet I am intensely powerful. Many people are powerful, I’m just… The Budding Awareness sort. I am quick to be honest about this, for it wastes time in growing to delay truth path awareness techniques.

I am proud in one light that I am even starting these projects, to build is to create is to be a real steadfast individual. To contain one’s geburah is to increase one’s skill over self, to be able to walk both the right and elft hand path is always an immediate concern especially when taking in to concenr one’s awareness of Sevan’s teaching of not only how all is self …and that is where¬†the concept of ‘Wholeness’ comes from… that also the be balanced is truly the best position.

CERTAINLY MY FEROCIOUS AT TIMES GROWLS expresses my anger and frustration and discontent, but besides this achieving a merely ecstatic masturbatory relief, it defers true satisfaction in overcoming the seeming obstacle which is merely sand which needs shifting in the core of my consciousness.

Other individuals may do as they may do, it merely comes back to be them, now one must also be aware that is one the physical plane. If another is invoking magic, and especially if you believe in their magic and your magic and magick in general, then one is wont to pay attention to planets and protection and propitiation. One would do well to learn to propitiate for no reason at all, yet

I return to that one, I know not to what these forces if they are such are

that who they are may be something far beyond original suspicion

that lived gnosis and actual practical power are the only real powers as they are the only to manifest in malkuth

YET as Sevan made clear, we are all ascending OR descending ‘the ladder’. My question is too, what realm are we in. Is the electronic itself an awareness, and then too to what extent, and then further, what is man, woman, where did we come from, far more than obvious JFK/911/other occult sacrifices, I mean, I can feel the bloodlust.

I can’t and won’t lie, where so many will. I suppose NvD was on to something, yet, to be so bold, auspiciously transparent to these concepts… hence why if you heard my now taken down first (second) radio show, and my other too, I make it clear that my own imagination is captured by this. Why lie? Well, because the inversionists would.

I don’t want to disappoint anyone, but I’m pretty sure the whole damn truth movement is a carte blanche industry which can fire and hire more clones than can die from a CIA op like The Jonestown Massacre. It like, doesn’t matter at this point, Levenda made this clear.

What it is is to be hip to what is now, and see who else out there really is about what finding the highest truths are, not just the august fraternities of olde, but of fresh new young blood of those who are out there looking for the real magic, the deepest magic. It does not reside in those halls. It resides right here.

As a author/blogger pointed out to me once, “Any secret society that can do anything for you these days isn’t taking people in off of the street”. And I’m sure he means even more than the red lodge levels – But who knows. I am very trusting of this individual so I do not think he is in any of these lodges himself nor do I think he would be attempting to be misleading with this statement.

Even despite the cultural programming, it is up to us to debug ourselves from the virtriolic speech, the bursts of rageful raors, the lack for self control which is replaced by self-mastery, which is the only battle, the initiate surely knows, that, and the awareness of the water in which we swim. Surely, those two pillars are a good starting point.

I’m a seminude Shakespearean model. Just kidding. About the semi. So, I will keep being strange, exotic, eclectic, eccentric, and evokative. Even if I feel embarassed about embracing certain planes whilst in another plane, whence possibly back to that plane shouldn’t I find my self embracing the same madness, I wonder what then I shall think of this self now, reflecting from my lupine’s quicksilver’n eye… gazing hungrily deep past my reservations of any modesty or decorum or social niceties, no… just let the madness follow through you, the conduit is the connection for ecstasy and gnosis.

All the same, I innerstand the hurt some can feel, how sensitive one is can be online, especially. When I say I want to have my great life, I do, and I want a tribe and kingdom of great people around me. I don’t know if I want to be King, but I do like being a tribal elder, amongst other elders, living in a harmonious and agreed upon way free of the old ways of the Lost, filled with the ways of the new, of those who are Becoming.

We know.

Somehow, we know.

This is the adventurous. I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. Not in my radio show. Not for being fierce, if unapologetically uncouth. I am still adapting, growing, and will not forsake my quest to be in total balance and in peace of self. Nothing matters, does it? Are you going to overthrow everything? Not alone. I am still working through the craziness my self. No need to lie. Just listen to my show. I’m still ‘out there’ but I am also cogent.

And I am courageous. And I do care. I don’t think that the silence of a nation to your symbolic sacrifice makes it alright, and that makes us on opposite sides of a line. Now maybe willing sacrifice is ok, coz, I mean, I’m out to lunch, so I’m suddenly like, what is true, what is not true? And yet I feel a burning virtue. What is programming?

They won’t know, if feels good to be this way, btu what is it? The Artist. Creating. Nothing more nor less, mostly sometimes though always through the veil of the fogging glass creates me. Well, that isn’t really the point. This is just an adventure in uninitiated words. I’m loose. Sloppy. But to others, I’m sure I’m right, tight, and living it to the max.

I don’t know. I’m just… ‘giving in to destiny’ right now. I know I am made of the right stuff for many cool positions, and that I have a lot of work to do in those areas, radio host, musician, writer, live poet (as opp to dead), and even actor, model, photographer, tarot creator, and I’m not excluding some sort of erotica, while I’m in shape. Certainly not now.

Also I have the weirdest propensity for some to think I’m quite mad, those surely that is but a passing phase of the moon they are confusing me for, at least, the way I choose to operate at times allowing the spirit to move me in the ways that a poet do, the free music of a star man, the ace of spades in the midnight pitchblack rain playing the sweet sound of infinity without boundary or center, just all sound and midnight rain.

While I find myself sitting on the park bench the keenest electric spark begins to grow up the base of my spine, and the way that I’m sitting becomes rapidly pins and needles excruciatingly uncomfortable, but before being able to adjust posture, a snake made of lightning coiling around a twin snake of equally hot lightning has rushed arching zapping stretching prickling peeling up my vertebra right in to my hypothalamus and pituitary gland and out my crown chakra and third eye while shooting in other streaks repeating down the front of my chest past my fluttering steaming confused excited heart right through my pulsing vibrant tan-tien cooking away through my illustrious decadent fantasies and emotionally satisfying eros steam dripping down between your legs right to the root chakra where the snakes hiss back to the coccyxean holes to return to their mysterious origin, likely where flame goes to hide once it’s done burning… where lightning returns to whence Zeus is done thwarting.

Well, I have a few hours before bed. Looks like I’ll finish editing the end of show 2 and start on the last one, 3. Be strong my anticipatory heart. I am still just beginning here.

The Flaming Lips Marathon + TDOSTM :argle-blargle-flarf-flarf:

I’ve been listening to the entire The Flaming Lips album discog this past weekend whilst reading the second book in Peter Levenda’s ‘Sinister Forces’ series*, and I started with Hear it is (1986) and went all the way through my intended goal of Yoshimi (of the Boredoms**) Battles the Pink Robots (2002). That was yesterday.

What the fuck is today?

I’ve listened to At War With The Mystics (2006) and at the moment am shitdeep in to 2009’s Embryonic, and frankly, the next album I’ll be doing is 2013’s The Terror, for Stone Roses ‘I Wanna Be Adored’ aside… deal with me now, somebody already MADE The Dark Side of The Moon (1973), and “sorry”… it wasn’t Phish (Billy Breathes and Farmhouse and Junta, go listen, now) and it wasn’t The Flaming Lips (their music, do what I did, is what I recommend, now) (NOW) —> and it wasn’t even Dub Side of the Anything.

It was made by the Pow R. Toc H.’ers PINK FLOYD IN NINETEEN SEVENTY THREE.

~FINN~

* The Author made it through the other Author’s part II by 130 direct paiges straightely nowwe

**The Author went through a severe braincrush/enhancing session of listening to The Boredoms around the same time as washing that around with Xinlisupreme and Xiu Xiu and Psychic TV. Why yes I’m not insane, thank you fuckingmuchlynow.

Windows of You (All Mine)

I want to soothe your aching soul

to teach you how to destroy armagheddon

to ravish your insides outside & in

to lay claim to & love you now