Occult Fan

Master no Self


Today is the one year anniversary of my being Entered an Apprentice in Freemasonry.

One year later, my Father is beginning his Masonic journey as well.

There are no such thing(s) as coincidences.


Sacred Looks

the taste of your face

dripping down my skin

you are the world

that I am living in

through the dark and the light

through thick and thin

feathers drifting in the sunlight memories

making love like Armageddon

tryst on the cliff far above the jagged crag’d rocks

we thrust free, no need for locks when I’m in your heart shaped box

trust and passion and long-lived fidelity

a roses scent and a blossoming tree

the way that you talk, and how your shining eyes sing, secretly, just to me

a world of keys folden gold like ebony and ivory

celestial witness, my rescuer from purgatory

your love may alone be

why the devil will never ever get to me




shadow shadow cinema

vision of the cliff

high upon the overlook

path nirvana wonderland

stellascopica iruv rosirc

red is the dile tide

stain petal blushing flame

metal in the well

purple in the well

golden over horizon

where the astral summoning

dials the entry

common cause to be open

let’s rock

Hold Your Head Up

where stars are made

that never fade

turn to face

the killing time

spitroasting soul

ghostlift the body into the aire

gift ghost the gilding girl

cutting and slutting without a care

bloodsport is a palindrome

quiescence silt and lyme

vagaries surrounding sacred laws

something about not killing

something about not coveting

what is not mine

something something

killing time

Proetic Edda

the fire in the minds of men

is kindled by a golden bough

grand chessboard faltering

at the face of a thousand heroes

Third Strike’s the Charm

strike the match

ignite the flame

shaken by tremors

you grip my mane

gasoline pulses

through my veins

I am the Fire Lion

the art of mars

in my arteries

mow down

entire legions

my pulsar roar wholly cleaves

and my thunder steed

paws shake the

the greying planes, wet fir firmament

dandelion skies stained with black clouds

tinder sticks, dynamite

are the color of my fur, my lucious fur

my pupils glaring cherry bombs

my heart is total war

you strike the match

ignite the flame

ride my rippling muscles

as the world burns down


Frater Mystic

Father Mystic, known as Frater Mystic in his times, a pseudonym of some equally talented writer, philosopher, and metaphysician, but he is too meta to mention here, query that part as you may, and seldom follow down the Cheshire Path to Willington, by-the-way.

I have had a rather non-blustery yet still like the fool card autumn tripping on her leaves off the cliff beneath the tree where bumblebees and snakeysnakes can never breach the foxies breeze.


Hand the Scripture to the Rising Dawn

New ages of Pisces and Aquarian

We are the Lightbringggers

Dispellers of Fog

Where stills the tongue in mild morning purple just before the risen new

no more coldness in the winter

no bones chilled to snapping sinew

only hold open the charity of relief

in hearts that grow auras do glow rainbow

balance the nine and seven and five and three

walk upright, respect nature, love man and the trees

hold the holy in your heart

listen write as much as you talk

give charity when you can

never let rust build up

always hold the heart and mind and guts together

walk upright with good intentions

call the bullshit of the pernicious few who won’t

give gladly to those in need, and even more so

make enough that you have more than enough to give

the flyers cannot get your, wetiko cannot get you, evil cannot get you

if you are strong and love and are persistent and zealous in your evolutionary flow

Godspeed you all, us all, we all.


“For you will come to find that we are all one mind capable of all imagined and all conceivable.” – Tool, Lateralus (song)

Psychedelic Winning, Yeah

Occult Fan October Fest… I’ve been noticing patterns again.

Morya Federation, Free Masonry (inverting the letters works as well as rearranging numbers in qabalah, so it is perfectly valid and useful at times).

So, there is more but suffice to say, OccultFanToBer is upon us.

Today I picked up another Weatherman cover, and found out Batman: The Killing Joke is in hardcover so I’ll be picking that up when WM5 comes out 10/10.

They were listening to the Valleygirl Soundtrack at The Hall of Comics, and the three guys working there were really cool. I told them about Dark Journalist in Cambridge.

This soundtrack is pretty bitchin’. I’ve got to say that I’m really enjoying it.

I am eating some Wendy’s and I don’t care mentioning that despite healthcare plans caring and all… whatever. It’s cool to know that Brother Dave Thomas who created Wendy’s is a Shriner, or was, rather! Godspeed Br Dave.

Not everything on this soundtrack is perfect, but it’s pretty fun and it harkens back to a very different time… as a ‘touchstone/portal’, this album will do it for you… it’s asking if Johnny is a queer! Totally different than today hahaha.

As it stands…  I’ve got some The Holy Gift for some listening to. I’ll add re Wendy’s one of my favourite things they do (besides being the best of the main three fast-food burger chains) is using the word MOM in their Wendy’s girl logo. Brilliant, multilevel stuff.

Maitreya Fidelus Vividiæn

I am discovering that when I pay attention to my role in this world that there is indeed a hierarchy and if I am going to live my fullest purpose I must align my needs in my personality with the highest needs of the ‘white brotherhood’ hierarchy, so to speak.