The idea that one can contact extra-dimensional forms of intelligence by means of weed based sex magick has been circulating throughout the semiotic super structure of western psychedelic culture throughout the last half century at least. Back in the 70’s Robert Anton Wilson wrote about his psionic communiqué involving the Sirius star system in the landmark book Cosmic Trigger, which posed the question: Can you contact your Holy Guardian Alien by means of stoned erotic meditation? Of course, he wasn’t the only one quite publicly tapping into the strange back in those days. Timothy Leary had his star seed transmissions, and the increasingly influential Phillip K. Dick siphoned information from a Vast Active Living Intelligence System projecting the hologram that is our “black iron prison” from its position rooted firmly outside of time. Until I recently re-read the book VALIS, I’d completely forgotten that this process was initiated by the seemingly innocent experience of smoking high grade hash.
Now, it’d be nice to think that the concept of summoning supernatural guardian entities could be conveniently cordoned off into the realm of 70’s hippie overindulgence, but in the 90’s the connection re-established itself by means of Scottish comic book writer Grant Morrison. In his seminal Occult work The Invisibles, the author fictionalized his otherworldly alien contact experience in Katmandu and its profound ontological implications. Of course, I hadn’t even read The Invisibles when I was summoned into Occult high strangeness in 2006. Hard Science-y types, like say Carl Sagan, have been trying to attribute alien contact phenomenon to sleep paralysis forever without further asking the question: what on earth is sleep paralysis? In mystery traditions throughout human history it has long been considered the gateway to astral projection, which is how I was summoned into magick if you’re curious. I started playing around with Robert Monroe’s techniques for astral projection in my late teens, and that’s the kind of shit that happens. Entities show up in your room in the midst of a pot nap one afternoon and summon you into some invisible psychedelic order of hive mind consciousness expansion.
In 2012 I finally had to come to terms with something mind bendingly peculiar. I’d initiated what classic Occultists refer to as knowledge and conversation with my Holy Guardian Angel, and whatever this thing was I was communicating with, it was compelling me to document the psilopsychic intel it was telepathically projecting into my spirit. Just as I was finally considering doing so in a more calculated manner, my writing got picked up by Disinfo.com, a site that once threw a conference where Grant Morrison implored people to experiment with sigil magick quite specifically. Once that went down I was like, fuck it, I’m going to start broadcasting this shit right onto Facebook, partially because most of what I see on FB bores me to tears in the first place. Everyone I knew seemed cripplingly addicted to it.
What I didn’t even consider when embarking on this bizarro social media art project was that in posting my inner workings publically, I’d end up accidentally predicting the future on multiple occasions quite demonstrably. This book is not only possibly the most complete documentation of an ancient and mysterious Occult phenomenon, it’s also a rather inarguable demonstration of what unfairly marginalized scientists have long been referring to as psi phenomenon. It’s quite a magick trick, and an outright assault on popular materialist theories in regards to the nature of dreams. Turn on, tune in, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat.
Now, it’d be nice to think that the concept of summoning supernatural guardian entities could be conveniently cordoned off into the realm of 70’s hippie overindulgence, but in the 90’s the connection re-established itself by means of Scottish comic book writer Grant Morrison. In his seminal Occult work The Invisibles, the author fictionalized his otherworldly alien contact experience in Katmandu and its profound ontological implications. Of course, I hadn’t even read The Invisibles when I was summoned into Occult high strangeness in 2006. Hard Science-y types, like say Carl Sagan, have been trying to attribute alien contact phenomenon to sleep paralysis forever without further asking the question: what on earth is sleep paralysis? In mystery traditions throughout human history it has long been considered the gateway to astral projection, which is how I was summoned into magick if you’re curious. I started playing around with Robert Monroe’s techniques for astral projection in my late teens, and that’s the kind of shit that happens. Entities show up in your room in the midst of a pot nap one afternoon and summon you into some invisible psychedelic order of hive mind consciousness expansion.
In 2012 I finally had to come to terms with something mind bendingly peculiar. I’d initiated what classic Occultists refer to as knowledge and conversation with my Holy Guardian Angel, and whatever this thing was I was communicating with, it was compelling me to document the psilopsychic intel it was telepathically projecting into my spirit. Just as I was finally considering doing so in a more calculated manner, my writing got picked up by Disinfo.com, a site that once threw a conference where Grant Morrison implored people to experiment with sigil magick quite specifically. Once that went down I was like, fuck it, I’m going to start broadcasting this shit right onto Facebook, partially because most of what I see on FB bores me to tears in the first place. Everyone I knew seemed cripplingly addicted to it.
What I didn’t even consider when embarking on this bizarro social media art project was that in posting my inner workings publically, I’d end up accidentally predicting the future on multiple occasions quite demonstrably. This book is not only possibly the most complete documentation of an ancient and mysterious Occult phenomenon, it’s also a rather inarguable demonstration of what unfairly marginalized scientists have long been referring to as psi phenomenon. It’s quite a magick trick, and an outright assault on popular materialist theories in regards to the nature of dreams. Turn on, tune in, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat.
