semantikon feature literature
October 2006
Taylor Ellwood
angela marsh works
1. Cut Up Commodity
2. Harry Potter Ritual

Taylor Ellwood is co-author of Creating Magical Entities, author of Pop Culture Magick and Space/Time Magic. This month will see his essays published in an anthology of contemporary magickal thinkers, Magick on the Edge. In November of 2006, his fourth book, Inner Alchemy, on the shaping of physical neural paths will be published by “Megalithica Books”.  Kink Magic: Beyond Vanilla Sex Magic, co-written will be published in 2007. Taylor is currently working on his next solo book, Media Magic.

In addition to his books, his website thegreenwolf.com, and his blog, Taylor is a regularly invited speaker on everything from novel magical technologies like those found in his controversial Pop Culture Magick to topics like sex magick, physiological paradigm shifts and time travel.

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Cut Up Commodity
editors note: we have borekn the story in chunks for ease of reading...
1. Hi I might be a federal agent...
2. Then showered and cleansed the body of physical and psychic impurities
3. He zipped up his pants and began to sniff around ignoring the phermones that came off his body
4. Because the disease was thought
5. Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law
     "Hi I might be a federal agent." he says to me. Vacant glassy eyes, smooth as pebbles and hard like metal. A fake shit-eating grin. Yes he is a robot.
     For a moment I disengage from my drone drudge impression and stare at him. Not the usual response to 'How may I help you?' Sugar as bad as the salt in the wound.
     "Why tell me that?"
     "You sell cigarettes. Cancer in a stick, white as snow."
     "So I do. ID please."
     He gives me his ID. Shiny card, with his face and a grin on it, much like the smile I saw. As fake as tomorrow. Set in rhinestones, sparkly like the fake luster of life in his vacant pebble eyes. 4-6-81.
     "You're enough of an age. What's yer poison?"
     "Meester, I want your hole and you, but grab a pack of camel's for a me too and come outside."
     I wordlessly leave the counter, while another drudge pops out of the ground ready to take an order. Business must always flow. "There's an electrical fire out here, but sell those pretzels damn it or I'll have yer hides on a stick," The boss rages. "What human beings? Those employees are marketable resources, commodity to sell or buy as I see fit. I don't care if they fry. I want my pretzels out there and running."
     I'm outside, gravel and cement. I blink at the glare of the sun. The guy grabs the camels from my hand.
     "Well shit. You didn't know it, but I had a fake ID, rhinestones and all. Now there's a price to pay."
     He pulls out a cigarette and smells it for a moment. Deep breath, savoring that package of chemical additives. Electromagnetism. A moment later its in his mouth. Match strike against the cement in one smooth motion back to the mouth and with a puff he's lit out like a firecracker. Bang! in the sky and I'm with him. Now he has shades over those pebble eyes.
     "Yes sir you are in trouble. We are not pleased with what you have done. You sold me cigarettes." The agent unleashes a cloud of smoke out of his mouth. Into my face, and I'm hacking away like a psychotic killer. No apple though and no axe. He laughs.
     "Now that my good man is what I'm talking about. What you are doing to all those underage kids out there, everytime they take a puff on this little white stick, this bit of candy set at a buzz to take em all in. Shift out."
     "Hey meester, you want a fuck against the bars, glump on the Way."
     State College is a dead end. My beat has stopped still as I'm lost in a stagnant land of happy drunk college kids and disgruntled elders.
     "Damn kids. Ruin this town." One wheezing old man stoutly farts out. He knows the town has already been ruined and in fact those kids keep the stagnation from bogging down to much. His resentment is deep. "Ruin this town with their drinking, sex, and drugs. Why they show us what we can't have in this society. Perversion of commodity!" Jealousy has a weighty thorn and I have a big stick. OOOOooo I love you oooOOO. The end is near. The challenge is greater. Mewtoo, Mewtoo come home. Its time for change. All we do...is cry if I want to but no one tries the drink. Quack, Quack, whos' there? Ain't no duck, that's for damn sure. All is not well in this lively little town. Angel, will you shut up? Pale blue eyes glare at me as her voice snaps back, why don't you suck on this? She sticks a dildo in my mouth and sprays window cleaner all over me. Saucy little lass. I vomit cum in her face, jacking off to the sound of love, as pebble eyes looks on with a fake grin, eyes dead as a metal, soul gone to the hole.
     Time is a diamond. Humanity sees one edge and assumes it is all that exists. Linear, straight forward, safe. Humanity is wrong. Time is a crystal with so many facets to it that linear time is an illusion, a light emitted to comfort an idiot race of people who can not contemplate existence as it is. We live in all times, exist in all time. The present is everywhen and there is no past, no future, but rather it is. Linear time is a means by which humanity protects itself from the truth. Truth? There is no truth and everything is permitted, right Bill B? Right he says and I wonder then what anything is. An illusion wrought by us to comfort. But there is no comfort in the illusion for me. I see life as it is. Particles bound together by space, unified by will, cloaking itself in light to be what it is not. We are made of light. Why else do we need the sun, the food, the water. Walking lightbrites. So time is a crystal. You can live in the 'past' at anytime because you still are living the 'past' as the present. The same can be said of the future. Just extend your mind to seeing time as it is. Goodbye world, hello everything. Can your brain cope? Only if your brain is something more than what you are. Rather only if your spirit is developed enough. I am all things and none. Do you understand where this rant goes? Even the words you just read, you are reading. Not frozen or stood still, not static, but rather existing all at once. The greatest opportunity of change, if only in that you know you as you are and can go beyond that changing the present because time and you are malleable. Control because nothing is what it seems. No control because everything is what we make it and being god is more than most people can handle.
     We have no limitations says me, but you have limitations, chosen by yourself, chosen because you are afraid of yourself, afraid of the truth, that all possibilities, that everything could be yours. I am the future. I and my kind, those who have always been more than human, better than the race because we are fit. And humanity is come to its end, not by me, but by itself. Humanity is in a commode, thinking of convenience, of what is easy. Not life, but surviving. Surviving is not living, but dying. I choose to live with myself and all life as it is. Dance in harmony with nature knowing what evil I have done, yet seeking to repair and fix it. No not repair, for that is commode word, a word of convenience, of the non-thinking that is so prevalent and typical of humanity. Rather healing the Earth, healing myself. Humanity could do just that, could keep the eyes a perfect twenty-twenty, the hearing perfect, and all the rest. No health problems. Just an understanding of all possibilities, an understanding that time can be changed, that everything occurs at once and therefore has no validity, no meaning save that which we give it. Or rather one meaning that which matters the most that is inside us.
     Love. As it is the one force that humanity cannot control, but is part of. The one force that can save us by showing us the truth of ourselves. Showing us what we are as compared to what we perceive ourselves to be. Love. Know what that is? A painkiller? Nope. It's the healer of all things, the unifier of all life, the dance eternal cosmic bringing together everything, everyone in perfect understanding and no force can stand against that, because ultimately no force can understand it, but can only be part of it, and in being part of love, one understands everything and dances with in all ways, in all emotions, in all thoughts for thence is reality gone, but rather all realities are present and all flourishes knowing peace as the place is everywhere, and there is no order or chaos, but rather perfection.
     He lay back on a cushion, deep vibrating blue color almost sapphire in a way. Color stained the body of He in a garish azure, too blue if you knew. Liquid music pulsed through him, playing in the background, walls, and cushions, so that nothing was free of its vibrations. The music caused his body to shiver and ejaculate, caught up in a total orgasmic ecstasy brought on by the vibrations of the music. He could feel his mind catch on a spiritual fire, a glow, the pain and pleasure that pervaded every inch of his sweat soaked, finely muscled and tensed frame. His head bounced up and down several times as his body and mind came together, no longer separate, but together. The light seemed to eternally expand into strips a mile long and then the orgasm broke and he let out a sob of joy, now at one with everything, his mind a glittering diamond that perceived all of himself in all manners as everything and was one with the universe.
     Then the music was turned off and the color dimmed. He trembled for a moment and looked bewildered, having lost that perfect moment of eternalized crystal thoughts, what a trip, and then he came down.
     He snarled in disgust and stood up. His body was sticky plastered with cum. There was quite lot of it on him, along with the musky scent of jacking off to the sound of the love. He needed a shower.
     Then thirty five pigs were driven over a cliff of Samoa by a demon frantically trying to hide from a light.
     "There's that Jesus again, off to save the world."
     "Peace my son and eternal happiness. That's my promise. You just have to see my way about these things. My way or its hell's highway."
     Wack wack wack is I all I say to that. Thank you director G, you look much the same. Snap snap.
     The door opened and Director G stepped into the room. He calmly looked over his colleague without any sign of emotion, save for a slight smile turned upward in sarcastic amusement of what he saw.
     "You'd make a good painting for the masses to enjoy right now." Director G had a nasal bored voice, yet it was irritating in that it suggested something wrong with everyone by just being a bored nasal voice.
     Go up several lines to see what He said, He flatly said. Both knew it was a lie to the eyes of the beholder. Apple in my eye. That damn apple took Adam and Eve out like a disease. Showing them what you got. Mister what you got ain't nothing to what I have in my pockets.
     "MMM, yes well one must keep his appearance decent, what you say?" He nodded automatically. Disagreement was never something to express. Director G looked a little sweaty, unaccustomed perhaps to the exertion he'd gone through to get to He. Humanity is a virus.
     "I have an assignment for you. It seems there have been unacceptable thought forms infecting a portion of the non-thinking humans once again. As you know we can't allow that. I really don't understand why those damn non-thinkers would want to be off the drugs in any case, do you? No matter. It would not do to have a majority or minority or any ity of non-thinkers thinking for themselves. As you are one of our best thought form hunters, I thought you might like the task of hunting down these thought forms. Send the non-thinkers back to the Defining Center of Adjustments(TM) otherwise known as DCA(TM), unless of course they have been infected too much. Then just waste the little plebeians. Snoort. We can't have any more rebels. Oh and if you find the gene-waste that did this, knock them off as well." Director G coquesttishly bats his eyes as he says this. He is a middle-aged man, somewhat flabby and sickly. His eyes are bloodshot and his skin is a pasty white. His nose is short and has a beak to it. Finely cut white teeth in a sensuous mouth fit the rest of the picture like a snap. Snap of a whip, snap of the mouth, snap of the picture. Anyway you cut it, he fits it.
     He went into the crystal shower room. The crystals refracted shards of light, which then showered and cleansed the body of physical and psychic impurities. He really needed it now. There had once been a legend that once humans used water for such cleansing, but He couldn't imagine using such an impure source of light. The energy room was also cleansed with crystals.
     He stepped out of the crystal shower room and went into his closet wardrobe. In there was a snug, tight blue suit that emphasized his body for all to see. It was especially tight around the anus and crotch, showing all his proportions. Tight, but not uncomfortable. He also put on Black boots that went up to his knees and flared outward. He walked into the table room. Pushing a few buttons yielded a screen, as well as a rose crystal glass, sparkling with water. He sat down in his contour seat and drank the water, while watching the info-dump that G had left for him.
     Thirteen humans clad in robes formed a pentagram and began to chant. As they chanted, energy rose from their heads and from that energy thoughts began to form. The thoughts took on the stuff of reality, perception as it were, and patiently attuned to the energy the humans gave out. Then they were off to disrupt the tranquility of the non-thinkers working nearby.
     He leaned back in his chair and watched the video play again. Eternal replay. Shot at the right, head falls to the left. We have us a conspiracy theory. Illuminati? Or was it just the old business men who had no use for anyone trying to play their game. We want the war and we want it now and we aren't going to let Camelot stop us!!
     He was familiar with how they performed the ritual. They put thoughts inside from inside their heads into the heads of the non-thinking humans. They said it would break the programming of the overlords and make the non-thinkers begin to question their condition within life.
     "What now you want unions? Why can't you just be satisfied with what we give you? Food, clothing, a purpose. Cripes you damn non-thinkers want everything. Money you say? Hah. We got better than that. Now stop thinking and start working." screams an overseer, deathly afraid of what his master will say. He knows he'll be one of the non-thinkers quicker than he can say his name if this nonsense about unions leaks out.
     He had seen that the thoughtforms did other than break the programming, the conditioning. But they didn't know that. They were never there to see it. Eventually an overlord like Director G would hear about it and come to someone like him and tell him all about it. He would then hunt the thoughtforms down and send all the non-thinkers involved off to the Defining Center of Adjustments(TM) known as DCA(TM) for the acronym. A reprogramming program that made all those bad thinking thoughts go away. Peace and tranquility in non-thinking. Amen.
     He even knew why the rebels struggled as they did. The ragged rainbow clans of the Earth's naturalist movement with totem spirit and guardians to protect them all from the rest of the world, even as they tried to free the world. One of those rebels had told him what was going on, in the hope He'd listen and be saved by the rainbow. Well the rebel had gotten her freedom anyway. As for what occurred? 1960's is when this war between the rainbows and the overlords started. This version of society had started then and gone from there. At first there had been defined, and peaceful, rebellion against the government, but by the late 1990's the riots and rebellions had no purpose, no peace and were actually just decadent parties, with no bettering of society.
     By then the old business men and the international bankers that really ran the world began to think about the use of drugs in programming people. Although they had people defined by religion, TV, and music, (other tools the person claimed were being used to program the people) the old men weren't satisfied with the control they had over people. However watching the rainbow rebellion, they noted that certain drugs seemed to numb people to the world and its state. And those insidious old men began to think about how they could use those drugs for themselves.
     The businessmen and bankers approached the archaic gods, especially those of the monotheistic religions, such as Christianity and Islam, and made a deal with the gods. The old men would use the drugs, along with TV and certain vibrations of music to program even more people into becoming non-thinking defined humans, the perfect workforce, which would never question their masters. In return these drudges would be converted to religion to feed the archaic gods with more power. In return the gods would reinforce the definition programming that was used on the non-thinking humans. This way the gods and the overlords (those old business men and bankers) could keep control over the masses and more importantly keep control of the thinking. And talk about profit. One hundred and ten percent!
     Now some of the gods, the old pagan gods didn't agree or like the ideas and so sided with rainbow clans. But those monotheistic gods wanted it all anyway and so were happy to see those damn pagans out of the way. Islam battled Christianity and in the end settled on compromise. Hell better to reign with each other than have no followers period.
     The person even explained how the programming worked. Music and drugs together were used to induce an alpha state in the brainwaves of the non-thinking human. This opened the non-thinker up to programming shown on the TV. The TV played endless messages about the gods and religion being the only way to save the soul. Or it talked about how wonderful it was to work for the money grubbing business men in endless drudgery. Arbeit Macht Frei. Work makes you free. Or better finds you salvation. All a bunch of lies.
     He remembered laughing at the time. This did sound like an old paranoid conspiracy theory. The person said the only way this stranglehold on thinking could be defeated would be to quit the drugs, stop watching the TV, and stop listening to the music with its brainwave vibrations. He had to deprogram his manner of thinking. He could no longer think in words and even images, means by which the definition virus was reinforced, but rather he needed to think in Expressions.
     The Expressions are the anti-virus to the virus, keying people into the stream of consciousness they'd been denied by the business men and the Gods. The overlords and gods feared the expression thinking because it would allow non-thinkers to evolve beyond them. If the non-thinking humans evolved beyond the gods, they'd no longer be needed and would cease to exist. Belief was what kept Gods alive and going. As for the overlords, no more profit, nothing left to run, no means of enjoying the subtle pleasures they kept from the non-thinkers such as certain drugs that induced psychedelic visions, though only a few overlords partook of those pleasures. No, rather the person claimed that sex, identity, art, science, and magick, all of these were kept away from the non-thinkers.
     So now you know our society is so fixated on sex, violence, and all the rest of the crap. The sin, as it were. Why? Because they are so uncomfortable. They being humanity, Man is afraid of sex, violence, the darkness and it is afraid because the monotheistic religions have taught man to be afraid. Hear ye hear ye, my God says do this or else. Believe in me or getting a lightning bolt up the ass. It is Christianity that has led us down this path in which we no longer know ourselves or the idea of expressions. We are so caught up in definition and purpose that we are caught, stuck in a well that is defined by us and could be easily escaped if we but took the definition away.
     He stood up and downed the water. Then he headed over to his WC or Weapons Closet. He carefully looked over the many weapons he had. Traditional weapons like revolvers and cutlass, Smith and Wesson .45, Katana, wakizashi, bayonet. No not for this mission. Antiques are fun, but thought forms will ignore them. Yesterday does not exist for the now. A nuclear bomb. Overkill with a possibility of his loss of soul. EM distortion and wallah! No soul for you! The man snatches back the soul so fast you didn't even know you could've had it for a price.
     No the weapons He had in mind were at the far end of the room. Simple, modern scientific technology. As trustworthy as a grandmother with cookies. Though these cookies were perhaps not meant for children. Three weapons he saw and knew were for the mission. Picks them up slowly, reverently. Ahh now this is the taste of life and death when you feel the aura of the weapon and know the souls it has taken. No soul for you!
The first weapon is the sound knife. You press a button and it creates a blade of pure sound, vibrating molecules, cut through anything like a knife gets butter. You could kill thought forms with this and you could cause soul death for a non-thinker. Just disrupt his or her vibrations with your vibration blade. One hell of an orgastic trip as she goes crying out, "ohhhh yes this is the end." A mixture of cumm and blood vibrating off the blade and splattering everyone. Gore you know.
     The second weapon is the thought absorber. It is made of a grey plastic material that has a sucker at the end of the barrel. Kind of like a jazz trumpet, but it doesn't blow out, it sucks in. You'd point it at a thought form and it'd suck the thought form in and proceed to change it into energy, which could then be used to feed the user of the gun.
     Finally He had the laser gun. And what a gun it is. Double pump action, with a cooking option if you like your prey for food. Many were the times when He had subsisted on human flesh. Tasted pretty good when it came down to it and one doesn't have a choice in the wild. The Andies will tell you that. He used this gun on the non-thinkers who'd become too contaminated by thought to go back to the DCA. How could you tell? When they began to debate intelligently about this or that. Most humans were already non-thinkers so even giving themselves a name wouldn't matter, but those who could think and use their brain. Get rid of them fast. Too much of a role model for the non-thinkers.
     He stuck the sound knife on his belt. Same for the laser gun. The thought absorber he popped into his Pocket Dimension Bag(Tm). That got hung on his belt and he was ready to go.
     Walking outside revealed to him a cold, overcast day. Sniffing the air yielded ozone and negative ions flooding the air. It'd soon be a lightning storm with a bunch of rain coming down. God's tears so they say. Maybe the lightning is his laughter. He'd have to hope the rain didn't erase the scent of the non-thinking humans or the thought forms. If it did, he'd no longer be able to track his prey. Down three blocks to the tube station so he could tube to the coordinates.
     The tubes were made of glass and were sleek and shiny. Lot of And's in that there sentence. A person would lie down in a tube and would be sucked to wherever he or she was going. The suck was generated by air, which in turn was propelled by massive fans. Occasionally accidents occurred and the person would be sucked into the fans, making a bloody mess of everything. The meat was then carted off to the shops. Fan sliced and diced meat was a delicacy for thinking humans.
     He felt himself sucked down the tube. Arousal occuring while the suck is pulling him down. His body tingled in waves of pleasure that the flow of air heightened with its soft, whispery, whiplike touch. Nothing like a good suck to get someone's day off. He watched as the vista changed from the city's sterile environment into the wilderness with its wild beauty and signs of life. The tube suddenly opened up and He was deposited at the site of the ceremony. He hurriedly unzipped his pants and began to jack off. A moment later orgasm hit and He sighed in relief. The fires down in the belly were out and now it was only the mind that could bother him. It was always a good idea to cum at the site of the crime if you were the hunter. It marked the hunt as yours and yours alone. All hunters respected this code, even if they too had hoped to get some of the action.
     He zipped up his pants and began to sniff around, ignoring the phermones that came off his body, but noticing everything else. You know the cabana boys have it down best. Expression is a means of getting past linear time and space. What is linear time? The perception of movement. Not movement, but the perception of movement. The breaking away of particles from other particles. The very idea of dysfunction as it were. Why else have we dysfunction in this late great age we live in? Time, linear that is, prevalent echoing everywhere with the bong of bells, the tick of a stick, the electronic whir of a digital watch printing out 9:36 P.M. Now the question is this: Is it 9:36 P.M. or not? Some say yes I say no. It is the loss of immortality and spirituality that causes those to say yes. Time linear is a comfort to those who have no idea of what time really is or would rather not be driven insane by time. Time time time. What time is it? When will I have time to do stuff? That is the whining of a child who does not understand it has all the time in the world. The marking of movement in space. Particles move and the more they move the further away they are. The human body breaks down and ages because it loses the links as it moves. "Time" takes its effects only in that we notice it in our movement. If no movement occur would time exist? That's like asking a zen riddle. Would we decay and have our particles spread further apart? Of course not says the old man. Hell growing is the best sign of movement and time, the perception that is. A child compact, full of energy, a regular spout of fire. Now notice how as that child grows due to all the movement(expansion of energy) it grows further apart. 6'4" apart. The child has aged due to movement. But some will say that when you get older you become a bit smaller, compacted like a junk car. Shouldn't the time be reversed? But lets not forget that particles only move so far then collapse, bang boom. The decay killing growth has set in and the decay kills the body. The body can no longer support the expansion of the growth. It must rest and death allows us that. No linear time has been experienced.
     And what have you experienced? The ravings of a madman, the insanity of genius or the malaise of the idiot. All in all its babylon linear time to go back to our regular programming.
     He zipped up his pants and began to sniff around, ignoring the phermones that came off his body, but noticing everything else. Back when He'd been created in the chemical vats, the birth creches of plastic chemical interzone tubing, He had been given genetic enhancements to his speed, strength and the five senses. He was a hunter and the gods and overlords wanted it done right. Genetic enhancement was a lot like cloning, with a bit of magick and science thrown together to produce a super soldier, no serum coming with the package. The DNA, it was all the DNA and protein strands. And because it was DNA, the business men had begun to give serious thought to just doing the programming in the genetic vats. They were sure it would be a way of thwarting the thoughts forms and keeping the human race right where it belonged. As their private bitch.
     He knew where the thought forms and their creators had gone. He wouldn't hunt down the creators. He needed them to have a job. But the thought forms were a different matter. He hoped they had not infected the non-thinking humans. If they had, He might have to kill and the overlords were never happy about the loss of non-thinkers. If they weren't happy, Director G wouldn't be happy and would complain to him about it. All He'd do was give them the old excuse used throughout linear and even non-linear time and space: "It's My Job."
     The thought forms had headed toward the city. He began to trek after them, knowing they wouldn't be allowed to get too far into the city. More than likely the thoughtforms had gotten into a factory instead and stopped all production there. Once you had non-thinkers thinking, nothing got done.
     "Think of all that profit lost because those stupid non-thinking idiots began to think for themselves." Yes, its never pretty when people begin to think for themselves. Profit loss out the wazoo.
     It wasn't long before He saw signs of thinking humans. Signs with slogans that said they wouldn't work for nothing any longer was strewn everywhere. Those damn thought forms had done a thorough job screwing up the non-thinkers. He sighed and primed his laser rifle, realizing He'd more than likely have to kill a few of the non-thinkers. When they started making signs with slogans on them, you just knew they'd never go back to being a non-thinker again. Totally useless really. He also saw signs of blood, which meant a struggle of some sorts, but no bodies were lying around.
     Shortly after finding the signs, He came to a broken down fence. Within the field was a large metal factory with three smoke stacks coming out of it. No smoke belched from them, but a large hole was blown out the side of the factory. He cautiously walked past the fence and came across the first body. Razor sharp teeth had gnawed off most the head. The body was dressed in the gray smock of a factory worker. Now He was alarmed. The thought form must have been rejected. Rejection of thought, the ultimate kill. The thought form would go berserk and kill the person who couldn't accept it. Knowing it could happen to him...crazy fucked up world. Then he checked the body to see if there were any other wounds on it. He noted the genitals were missing balls and suddenly knew what kind of thought form he was dealing with.
     Some thoughts must remain my own like the following: Well I'm kidding. Now I've noticed of late how fucked up things are. For instance, one will have something work out, but even then something doesn't work out. I have felt this disappointment rather keenly examining my life. I've found many tests. Truly they are a test. Hahaha. Well lets not dwell on this. Discomfort zone, red like all get out. In truth it'll go away in its time, just like I will. Physical immortality is possible, just don't eat a thing! A few years to the devil. Well I'll deal with an ace up my sleeve. I'll get in touch with my inner child or maybe you. So demons are not what they seem. Not mythical creatures of Evil, but rather creatures who do their own thing. It just conflicts with us. Ever notice that? The bad guys are evil. That is subjective thinking, which the majority of humanity is damn fond of. Us or them. Stop defining, experience!!! Why doesn't the sun move? No one has ever really asked that question. But think of this. The sun has much more gravitation. It uses that gravitation to keep itself in one spot. It requires lots of energy to do so, why stars die. But destabilize that gravitational matrix and you have a black hole, nova, or any other stuff you can imagine. Pretty amazing, eh?
     "How is it you know so much?"
     "I am that I am."
     He pulled out his thought absorber and entered the factory. Inside the lights had been broken, but he could occasionally here soft grunts and groans, much like He had made when He masturbated or occasionally took sport with a woman. He sighed and shook his head, realizing that the non-thinkers had committed the felony of having sex with each other. They couldn't be saved now.
     He cloaked himself with a lightbender. The lightbender was attached to his belt and served to bend light around him. Unless he was still, no one would see him or what he was doing.
     All over the room bodies sensuously writhed in the act of sex. He put up his thought absorber and pulled out the laser gun. Its small shiny black length seemed to gleam in anticipation as he stepped over the first couple. He leered down at the woman, who was pinned beneath the man. She screamed and the man, unaware of the danger, smiled to himself and pumped even faster, sure of his sexual prowess. How little the man knew.
     He leveled the barrel to the back of the man still busy humping the screaming woman. Then He pulled the trigger and watched unemotionally as the laser cut through both bodies, killing the lovers instantly. The scene was repeated twelve times and each time the woman screamed and the man never knew what hit him. He thought it should have been the other way around of only for a little variety. A woman on top of a man, what a novel idea. Well He didn't have time to oblige his own sense of artistry let alone the women on how they should die.
     While he was thinking on this (Which itself should have warned him) He didn't hear the scampering sound of the thought form that was above him. It positioned itself above his head and smacked its lips in anticipation of the sexual freedoms it would arouse within him.
     He felt a weight fall on him and began to consider sex in a wholly different manner than he ever had before, a joining of the soul, mind, and body, more than just a physical pleasure. More than just a lustful pleasure. Sodomize that body, feel the warmth you just eradicated. He tossed off the male body and unzipped his pants, entering the corpse of the dead woman he shot. No screams perhaps, but she was warm alright, and just juicy too. Then He realized what was happening and pushed a button on his suit. It began to emit electricity. The thought form shrieked in terror and pain as it felt its existence being erased by a brutal raping of the electro-magnetic soul within it. He pushed himself off the dead woman and pulled out his thought absorber. He pushed the green studded button on it and the thought form was reduced to so many particles of energy as it was sucked down the funnel-like barrel of the gun. He briefly shivered in pleasure as he felt energy enter his spine and go throughout his body. He felt like He was almost back in the blue chamber. A pleasurable itch returned to his genitals.
     The answers to life's questions? How can I find inner peace? What is my purpose in life? Lucid dreaming the great treasure hunt. The nature of the Beast job title: The man the man he is like Pan. Master of the world: Passing the spoken word, and the right to be frozen. Billy the kid's last face another legend bytes the dust. Expand your level of conscious magic payback. The plight of the patient "EH" was reminiscent of a twilight zone episode spewing out energy walrus upright. Chimpanzees hold the speed record for the animal kingdom quickies: sexual intercourse in three seconds and jacking off to the sound of love in one second, how to get intimate with a primate, by knowing the right mate. Cosmic conspiracy everywhere you want to be. The world was full of lunatics, why not this one? Ground-mainly we don't understand its beginning and end. The little missile that could all good things come to an end? Back by popular demand...Immortality! What and where is the mind? Discover for yourself the natural solution making magick the only razor that senses and adjusts to the individual needs of your face. Not a bad way to get to college. Harvest of hope diet for a healthy brain a fistful of flavor eating air sperm. Killer comets: How does it work? corporate database vendors-corporate America the beautiful has a huge appetite for information and babies. How does it work? The harbormaster came to meet her as she stepped from her fishing boat to the beach. "A thousand pardons many don't work at all, most work only a little, yet now technology brings you real results dramatically and fast He was sacked and believe He was innocent redhanded bloody to the armpits fer chrissakes! Be good for goodness sakes! Innocent my ass! Okay Rudy, I thought, get in there and take a look around. But I didn't I waited for him to say something. I didn't for a second what Ally thought He hell.
     Talk is cheap. For me never again through the night with blossoming Yellow Lady's Slipper. I recognize that perfume now. It is the order that rises from a human body cut wide open, like a mouth making a big, dark yawn. The other Dudy Pairis had come home at last. Their skin droops in wattles is wrong and I believe you ought not die. Then he turned and stared at me slowly with the look of a dog. Everything dreams nothing attracts join the generation talk back shoo shoo baby. Making no fun captain I know who should burn for all those murders. In a moment of human weakness I saw it all. Groundbreaking new report reveals...THE SHOCKING TRUTH ABOUT SUBLIMINAL TAPES. Never done any of it. Never done it absolutely no doubt none of it. Moments of human weakness, and it was those moments, not my gift and not my blackness, that had made me the loser, the monster, the liar that I am.
     Because the disease was thought to be influenced by the stars in the next second I went wild with anger, disgusting thing that lived on one side of my split brain. In the next second I was nauseated actually wanted to fall down and puke seeing every moment of what I had done naked such a Rudy being little better than a well educated fuck-up. Apocalypse now or chicken little? There you have it gentlemen-the fine line between genuine religion and trendy moral posturing. Was chicken little right? How short is too short? How fat is too fat? You start with severe cases: the child who'd grow up to be under three feet tall. The river builds her white anger.
     The dark prince says, "Good is a free facts of life." Bald head idiot smile, you know where he's going. You could fool juries and polygmists, judges and serial killers, mommy and daddy, but you could not fool Rudy the fuck-up, he who regularly travels to the place of dark where you can go but not return, Television. The apartment on a quiet cul-de-sac overlooking Paris is a curious mix of sheer affluence and cheerful jumble-a spirit, Mykene felt it on her skin. The cloudless blue sky mocked her, but her training and senses did not lie. And Jarre had not warned them, Frozen terror Awakes! Chaos have your cake. Dark conspiracy chill bargaining power its exceptional. Brains make the monster who own railroad. Writing letters for space, walking tall and cool boys are more likely to be three times as likely as girls to be dyslexic or nearsighted. Power, a new kind of excitement. Feminist PSI they knew too much about flying saucers. New device turns electrical outlet into a phone jack makes you strong. Try America, but how do you think HE was? The thing I like most about this religion is the total lack of hypocrisy. I had to do something about it. Not just for Ally though that was the reason, but for this man a dealer's worse nightmare? Silk for Cocaine, we'll show you how to get on the job circuit. Warning Do not attempt to grab hold of your power translator, Their fate is in your hands.
     He stopped considering that and sniffed the air around him. No more humans or thought forms in the area. Obviously this last thought form had got the humans thinking and doing sex. Sex was only for the Elite. The business men, the directors and the hunter like himself.
     He walked out and opened a packet in his suit that was over his left nipple. He pulled out a small grenade and closed the packet up, pausing only to rub himself only to rub his nipple. Then He shook his head and brought himself back to the present. He pulled out the pin and threw the grenade into the factory. There would be no reason or desire for the owner to want the factory now that sex had occurred within it. The possible psychic overtones of the acts just might infect future non-thinker humans, getting them to repeat the horrible act. He couldn't let that happen. More thoughts might come and independence was just a thought away. The factory blew up with a whoosh, bright orange flames spurting outward in a display that evoked the very sex that had occurred within the factory. He watched for a moment and shivered, whether in longing or fear, He could not decide. He had a job to do.
     It was only a short movement later that He found the mingled tracks of humans and thought forms together. He noticed some human spoor on the ground. It was fresh, only a few hours ago. They were near. He bent down and touched a button on his shoes.
     His shoes had a button on them. The button increased his speed to a blur. The button was black and shiny, and concave. The button invited ANYONE to press it, begging SOMEONE to press it. The black button was an addiction waiting to happen in a world of addiction impurities that infected man long ago and kept doing it daily to insure a firm grasp on man. Man didn't control anything, the addictions did and gave him an Illusion, the grand illusion of control. Yes sir press that button sir. You must press that button sir to have control. Everything at your control, just press that button sir. Who really has the control? The button or the man? He pressed the shiny black button, begging wanting to be pressed, wanting to control, (It did control) and He became faster, because He pressed that button and it nor He had control but both thought they did. The button whines for a moment, fulfilled and He, you, and I wonder does the button have control?
     He stood up and began to run through the forest. The wooded hills, ferns, cute stereotypical animals passed by in a blur. He had no time to enjoy the sights and wouldn't have in any case. Nature, by itself, was rather boring. Had been on Earth a billion years and all it could produce enough to keep humans surviving, no entertainment. No humans had to do that. Now humans had no need for nature, even with survival, or did humans? Which came first, chicken little or egg little? Or the human vs nature. Title match, bout one.
     Mainstream society is ruled by the elite, the ones who own the business, mega corps anyone? Television is a wonderful hypnotizer. Music combined with visual aids, reinforcement of the alpha wave. Most people are hypnotized by this and fit easily into society. Then there is the counter culture. My friend Jim believes that everything in the counter culture eventually surfaces in the mainstream culture. Hasn't helped much has it? The counter culture is the elite's means of distraction. Gender issues, hippies, terrorists, criminals, all the nasty stuff-drugs, violence, sex. Doesn't anyone notice how much this takes up the mainstreams notice? The counter culture certainly has surfaced as the distraction. And the counter culture is sadly the same as the mainstream culture. Dress one way like a hippie and you're a brother or sister. Dress casual t-shirts, jeans or even in business attire and those previously warm 'brothers' and 'sisters' treat you like an outsider. No longer one of them. And it boils down to us vs them. Pretty sad when you think about it. Same with the other groups of the counter culture. When you are an unknown you are a threat. Sounds mainstream to me. And drugs...forget it. Drugs failed. Drugs are just another way to devolve people. No mind expansion, mystical experience, but a cheap thrill that leaves the body wasted and the brain craving more of what is not natural to it. And the mages...infighting all the time, when we should be working together to grow beyond this society that is a warped and deviant reflection of xtianity. Well xtianity is just that. Visualize wild dogs tearing up hamburger meat while a french girl with long dark hair calls you a spaz and draws Egyptian faces. It doesn't make sense but its us eating each other. The taste of human skin is both crunchy and slippery against the lips. The crunchy is the garlic that goes with it. The skin is pale pink sheets put in a specific liquid solution to preserve the power within the skin. You eat the skin, you get the power. Personal power. Are there other ways to get it? Blood, tears, urine, any and all the above make what is personal and what is power thrumming through the veins like liquid quicksilver or molten fire. Better to be a word man than a bird smith.
     He spotted movement up ahead and stopped, crouching tense, an animal waiting for its prey to make a mistake. A human, a non-thinker, was straight ahead. The human was clothed in a gray smock much like the other factory workers had worn.
     "Hey Frank, you hear anything? I don't want any of those hunters to find us." A voice called out the figure He was watching.
     "No Jerry, I haven't seen a thing. Must be your imagination."
     Imagination, expression, ideas, a constant flow, a stream freeing us from the definition virus that has trapped humanity into a spiral of Devolution. No freedom of identity with the definition virus. No freedom at all. He remembered hearing that. Where? He shook his head.
     He couldn't believe it. They had given themselves identity. This was both worse and better than having sex. Identity was no longer confined to the elite, but at the same time sex was still denied the non-thinkers unless...they had buggered each other. These thought forms had been well constructed by the rebels to be giving non-thinking humans names, the means of identity. I am someone therefore I think? Visa versa it works to. That would end now, but no killing. He climbed up a tree and made his way carefully through the branches, keeping Frank in sight the entire time. When He was directly above him, he dropped down on top of him and with one swift motion knocked him to the ground and tied Frank up, with a gag over his mouth. Now He would move onto the other prey that had dared to give itself identity.
     He soon found it. A male non-thinker who looked to be in his twenties. The male looked around cautiously and then began to cook some food at the camp fire.
     "Hey Frank, you're gonna love this meal." The male cocked his head to the side for a moment, waiting for Frank to respond. "Frank? Frank? Are you alright?" Suddenly the male heard a sound and saw the hunter rise up out of the woods.
     He looked at the male and casually fingered the trigger of the laser rifle. A beam flashed and sliced into the male's left leg, stopping Jerry from moving anywhere. He repeated the process to the other leg and the arms. Why? Because He could. He began to shake in excitement as the screams continued. He hastily unzipped his pants and jacked his penis off to the sound of love until it vomited cum into the mouth of the non-thinking male. He then gagged the male and grabbed a bite to eat.
     "You know Jerry, it is a good meal." He patted Jerry's sobbing face and attached a pod to him and Frank. Next stop, the DCA. They never care about the state a non-thinker is in, as long as he's ready to be reprogrammed. Back to the assembly line.
     Consider a 0. Its not a loss, but rather an ending and a beginning. A completion of all things, a coming together of all ideas, all people, all ways of life. I'd rather be a 0 than a 1 because 1 is always alone. The foster child's room is one that has a lot of space. Two of the four walls are completely bare, with the rough, white, speckled hide of the wall glaring at any passerby, daring the person to breach the emptiness. I am sitting on the edge of a square table. There are many others around me, but none of them speak. Silence is golden, a virtue, but none of them speak. They all have words to speak, but they do it quietly. I don't care. I watch, observe, am as one with all of them. The room's depressing air and too bright light only adds to the passive mood I'm in. Someone's speaking about a story. Several of the people are in their own drama. A condescending smirk emerges on the face of one of my classmates. He thinks the one guy talks to much. I agree...sometimes. Yes, a little game is being played right now. We hate each other for that. Someone's cutting a styrofoam cup while the class is going on. No one cares, but damn he's rude. But who gives a damn anyway. He's just another face in a crowd where faces don't matter. Smirk, snuffling laughter, no respect here. I feel sorry for the girl who's story is being reviewed right now. It's harsh when you know no one cares.
     It wasn't long before He heard noises that sounded like animals. He was enjoying the last of the meat that the male had obligingly cooked for him. Suddenly a weight fell on his back and He lashed out in panic, hitting the thoughtform with a fist. His fist passed through it while it tried to claw its way into his brains. He realized it might give him an identity and frantically struggled to avoid that fate. Nobody but the Gods and old business men could give you an identity or take it away. He pulled out his thought absorber and rolled backwards, in an attempt to dislodge the thought form from his head. It flew off him and hit the ground several feet away. Up came the thought absorber and it began to suck the thought form into it. Hologramatic realities rely on just the basics of touch, feel, see. The particles are what you make them. It wailed and tried to flee, but could not resist the positronic pull of the absorber. Soon it was sucked in and reduced to particle waves. He briefly felt a sensation in his brain, a buzzing high that caused him to arc his back and sigh in pleasure. It was similar to an orgasm, but contained within the head.
      He pulled out a small radar and turned it on. It had a gray dish with a small knob coming off the dish. The dish began to turn. He waited patiently, letting it do its job, even as He did his. Soon a holographic map of the area appeared. To the east of his location a light flashed and He knew that was where the last thought form was. He smiled in pleasure as He realized it wasn't that far away. It was time to go. It was time to end his hunt and go back to the blue room and its dreams. Better than reality.
     I'm not dead yet. I got better, but I am alone. This is the fifth time I died and came back. Worse than a comic book character.
     It's a third eye kind of day brothers and sisters. Offnung means opening in German. Open door to the subconcious and the cosmic consciousness bringing it all together in the mage so he can access all aspects inward and external of the magick. As a curious byproduct it was a third eye kind of day for me. This in part relates to an email from one of you remarking about stepping back and taking a look. So I did just that. Sometimes you have to lose to win. Earthly delights lose to altered destiny. Being who you are is necessary to the situation itself. When this is understood the why becomes secondary to the situation because the why is evident to one who is in touch with all aspects of himself. Like 0's and 1's. Losers and winners, circles and loners. Who is the true winner and the true loser? Neither I say because it all comes down to being who you are and those who follow their true will understand that there is no sacrifice done, but rather a merging to understand and know the mysteries and the possibilities of the void. The vibrations of the planets, the stars, the moons, and all that lives as it dances to the inevitable cosmic beat that filibrates within all of us. That which is love fueling the true will. Thy myths destroying the realities as the hologram is understood to be the edge of what we are. That is my third eye observation of the day. Reporting from my home, I'm out of here. Do you know television rules us?
     He ran through the forest, keeping the radar in one hand, and parting the vegetation with the other. Closer and closer the radar promised him. He clicked it off and stuffed it into his suit. He pulled out his thought absorber and moved forward quietly. The thought form could be on him any moment and He didn't want that if He could help it. He looked around uneasily when He heard rustling sounds all around him. When He looked up, a foot descended toward him. The foot hit him in the face and pulped his nose. He fell to the ground and saw the thought absorber was several feet away from him. Then He noticed who was around him.
     Several non-thinkers with knives had emerged from the bush and trees around him. The one who'd kicked him grabbed the thought absorber and looked it over. Then the non-thinker looked at him.
     "What the hell is this, you fucking hunter? Looks like you were gonna jerk off with it. That's something only allowed to you, hunh? Well we've done it as well. Guess that makes us just like you."
     He shrugged. He could care less. He needed the thought absorber though. He'd begun to ease the laser rifle out of its holster, but his hand was kicked away by another non-thinker.
     The first one saw what happened and chuckled. "Don't like it that we have identity, do you? That we can think now, just like you?! Gives us control and that's bad isn't it?" (Of course the non-thinker was wrong. No one has control. We're just told we do and given an illusion of control)
     He didn't reply, but He acted. He could act and have control. Acting was better than thinking. Action is not about thinking, but doing. Thoughts don't exist within action. It was all He did when working or resting, drifting off in his dream worlds, while busy jacking himself up, off, and high. Escape from reality, the truth no one can bear. An illusion of control we need because we are programmed to control and be controlled. That special means of activating the chemicals and hitting the endorphin stream hard for a moment of pure bliss that hopefully never ended, but always ended and brought him back to a world where there is no such thing as control. That happened even now as He kicked the kneecap of the non-thinker who'd stomped on his hand. Turn on, tune in. Pain from another also activates that high, kind of like a vampire needing blood. Bunch of parasites is all we are.
     Palm forward smashes the larynx. There's one bastard who won't be breathing, let alone thinking ever again. He pulled his sound knife out and activated it with a whistle. Then he threw it into the non-thinker holding the thought absorber. The non-thinker gasped and fell. He grabbed the thought absorber and knife. For good measures He kicked the man in the skull.
     "Do any of you other non-thinkers want to try and kill me or give up and go back to the DCA(TM)?" He asked. They screamed their hatred for him, the system, the definitions that kept them trapped. He shot them in the legs with the laser rifle and laughed. That laugh, those screams, the futile sound of rebellion, of the why. Why must it be this way? Because...He walked over and placed pods on them. A blip of light and they were in the DCA (TM) for readjustment. He still had a thought to hunt down.
     Damn non-thinkers. Won't keep their places. What's this world coming to when people don't keep in their places? It's all these thoughts being brought out to harass everyone in their places. You want individuality? Fuck no sir! Well here you go. Just remember that with individuality comes duality. Individuality = duality. Say it with me. You'll notice the differences in men and women and subconsciously think man, woman. Gender is individuality, because it doesn't merge, it makes you aware of just how different you are from those around you. Sex is the answer to that, but only when you understand the true power of sex. But if you can't think you don't notice the difference. It's all relative man. Don't think and you'll be fine. No individuality, no high, no number, another statistic. One mystical experience coming up sir. I don't want that, it'll make me whole. Yes sir and that's why we are doing it. You think too damn much!
     "Nooooo!" He shrieks. This system, definition, program is all a lie. Definition keeps you trapped in. You can't think, you are dead!!! The mind, do you mind, its mind. The definition is a prison for the soul to keep where the overlords can watch it. He is just another drone, factory warrant ready. It's all a lie. When you don't think, you can't experience the oneness they promise. No mystical rapture there. Just a deafening silence, shattered by the cries of a soul lost in a hell made by man and god. Expression is the way out. No definition to bind, no program to tell you where to go, what to do, how to be. Be free, be cool, be yourself, go to school, have identity.
     "No I'm not ready." He cries out. Suddenly He realized what had happened. The thought form was in his mind. Trying to destroy him. He wouldn't have been thinking otherwise. He'd been acting part of the whole. Damn, he's done it again. Thinking. He pulled out his thought absorber and pointed it at his head. He pushed the green button. An incredible sucking sound, like a vacuum, issued from the horn shaped hole in front of him. He could feel the thought form resisting the pull, but it was too late. It shrieked once and then was pulled in. A thing of scales, teeth, whatever form it wanted to be. He fell over and clutched his head and then frantically began to jack off. He needed the high.
     A few days later, Director G came to visit him. He was in the liquid blue chamber soaking up the music and being blissed out of his mind by the endorphin rush that crystallized a billion thoughts at once and stopped him from thinking. It was only action, it was only the whole. Director G had friends with him, friends in hunter suits.
     "Director G, how can I help you now?" He didn't want another job, at least not for a few months. He wasn't ready for it. He always liked his time off and free for himself so He could be somewhere other than here.
"Ahh, its not business this time. Rather its your reward." Director G smiled a sickly predator's smile and snapped his fingers. The two hunters came forward and grabbed him. Director G pushed open his robes and came out with a whip.
     "It seems you've been developing an evil tendency to think lately. You are going to the DCA (TM) for a little readjustment. But before we do that, I want a little pleasure with you. Then off you go to be corrected. You just aren't with the program. But believe me it won't take much to get you back in line, defined. Just the push of a shiny black button." Director G's smile broadened ear to ear and then he brought the whip down. After a few blows were soaked up, Director G had him bent over. He watched as Director G fondled a large metal dildo. The director strapped it on and with a cry of Bonzai began to push into his sphincter. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Suddenly It felt a compulsion to pull the lever up and down.
     And in the abyss of It's mind a soul screamed, "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law. The North is to the South as the East is to the West. Houston, We have orgasm!"