The End is Nigh…

Remember how all the Republicans thought Obama was the Antichrist, and would bring about the end of the world? Well now those poor fools have my sympathy because that’s exactly how I feel about Donald “General Bone Spurs” Trump, and all his fattened criminal cronies here and abroad (seriously, fuck them straight to Hell). But since he still has his grubby, tiny fingers on top of the most devastating nuclear arsenal ever seen on planet Earth, my mind has been brought back over and over to the Apocalypse. And nothing says “Apocalypse” more than a good old 15th century woodcut (seriously I am crazy for woodcuts). So lets dive into the famous Four Horsemen by Albrecht Dürer (1498).
This woodcut is so incredibly impressive because of the grand and small-scale details found everywhere, and the constant sense of intense motion, chaos and fear that the End of the World promises. The muscular strength of the mighty horses, the severity of the riders and the anguished faces of Earthbound man struggling against the coming Doom. A frightful, powerful image.
Continue reading “The End is Nigh…”

The Coming Storm – Psilocybin Madness

Here in the South, summer is in full swing. It is punishingly hot, the air hits you like a sauna even at night. Each and every afternoon is visited by a temporary but impressive thunderstorm that rolls in from the mainland and out towards the Gulf. The unforgiving weather keeps me feeling languid and sluggish, but the free time I have now in between semesters means I can pursue more of my occult interests, usually indoors. Except when it comes to my lessons with the Golden Teacher, the flesh of God, Teonanacatl, psilocybin cubensis.
Each year around this time I produce my annual crop of mushrooms. I love giving them out to friends and strangers alike–in fact, it’s one of the things I’m known for here. Many a good trip has been had here thanks to my “community service”. I consider it a true vocation to promote the proper use of mushrooms for spiritual, psychic and emotional development.
At our annual trip, our party leaves the urban sprawl to retreat in a vast preserve, a land set apart with pine forests, marshes, river swamps and dark open skies. Last year my boyfriend had his first trip, while I served in a shamanic capacity as guide. It was a deeply spiritual experience, but also resulted in such an opening of our hearts for each other, we talked for hours with such honesty and truth. It was one of the most important nights of my life.
Despite its ease of use, each trip becomes more difficult for me as I try to penetrate more the mystery, and learn difficult, sometimes painful lessons from the Spirit of the Mushroom. Often the lesson is not something I wanted to hear but I know would be to my benefit. I admit I sometimes still struggle with the Spirit and I know there are some lessons I have been postponing, and that soon the Mushroom will not allow me to postpone any further. Each trip is a lesson in dying, a face to face confrontation with Life and Death–my life, my death, the world’s, the Universe’s. While there are many plant teachers in my life, the Mushroom reigns supreme.
Apart from the crazy theories and visions worthy of science fiction that it has shown me, it always leaves me with a greater sense of wholeness, wisdom and lasting peace. For that reason, and realizing my need to push deeper each time, this year I will finally be taking the “Heroic Dose” so often mentioned by Terence McKenna. Let us see what vistas the mind can truly fathom!

“There is a tradeoff for border crossing and trespassing. Both pain and pleasure are required to harrow and heal the souls art: if fear were to deter, rather than to invigorate and illuminate shadow, there would be no path beyond the trees…
It is often required to leave behind one’s mundane world, persona, assumptions, comforts, habits and securities in order to comprehend with all the senses required. May the teachings that come from nature’s adversarial and opposing forces serve to illuminate the layers of black earth and sky, where roots and stars are in union, that place where the Devil and the Witch meet.” – Plants of the Devil, Corinne Boyer

“O sacrament most holy, O sacrament divine, all praise and all thanksgiving, be every moment thine”

Medieval Torture Museum, St. Augustine

In the nation’s oldest city there is a new exhibition of replica and restoration torture implements popular from antiquity up to 1939 (the last public execution by guillotine). Even though the dummies are pretty kitschy and the fake torches very campy, the torture devices and demonstrations offer a boldly visual exposition on how barbarous humanity can be. Of course you KNOW I focused most of my attention here on the trial and punishment of witches and sorcerers, about which I was not disappointed. Contemplating on these instruments of brutality and pain is a very powerful way to remind yourself of the needless suffering religious tyrants have caused in the past, and will continue to cause in the future unless we stop them.

Shame mask for an eavesdropper
Collection of shame masks for different offenses, gluttony, gossip, eavesdropping, adultery and so on. A 16th century invention.
Clamps, chains, brands and the Breast Ripper (center)
The Pear of Anguish. Just Google it.
Heretic’s fork. This is what happens when your belief doesn’t match mine!

Catherine wheel. Particularly nasty, and used since ancient times
Iron Maiden. Did you catch their last tour? Ghost was opening for them it was spectacular. 

Detailed 14th Century Illumination of Dante

Priamo della Quercia (active 1426-1467) masterfully illuminated these miniature scenes of Inferno and Purgatorio only a century after Dante’s time. Together with illuminations by Giovanni di Paolo, this Yates-Thompson manuscript contains 110 miniatures in brilliant pinks, blues, greens and gold.






More found at the British Library

All about that time when I got super stoned and went ghost hunting

Picture it! Last weekend, St. Augustine, Florida. About 3 drinks, 2 bowls, and a very potent THC edible settling nicely in my tummy. This was the night of the trip I’d been waiting for, our paranormal investigation and ghost tour through the historic city. While for most of the group, it was an entertaining story time, for me there was a moment of pure fear.

Castillo de San Marcos, built starting 1672.

St. Augustine has been a continually occupied settlement since Spanish explorers set up camp there in 1565. It’s 450 year history means it’s a great place for antiquities, archaeology, and local legends.

Spanish conquistadors land in Florida on the feast of St Augustine, detail of stained glass window, St Augustine Church, Gainesville FL

About 30 minutes into the tour, my brain was total mush, so all the facts I learned about St Augustine ghosts I had to read about later. However one stop I remember in vivid detail was at Antiques and Uniques on Aviles St. This part of the town has been developed ever since the first Spanish period. The building we entered was once the City Jail, and prior to that had been part of a military hospital complex. Archaeological evidence found in the 21st century revealed human remains under the building. According to legend there were also ghosts of children who haunt the place, so instead of calling out to the rapists and murderers, we decided to try to communicate with the kids.

The creepiest collection of clown dolls and other junk in town, which my stoned ass decided entering in the middle of the night would be a good idea.

We powered up our KII EMF meter and took our dowsing rods. As we all crammed into a narrow closet, which was at one time the alley behind the jail and a site of more than one grisly murder, the silence overtook the place. With a single flashlight we filed in and tried to call the child ghosts by name. Now, being in the middle of an edible session, my mind went all kinds of weird places. Time stood still. I became claustrophobic and paranoid. All of that I could easily attribute to the THC. But then shit started getting too real.

There are at least 5 ghosts in this photo alone!

The flashlight begins flickering (of course), sending a thousand memories of scary movies flooding through my head. A creak in the distance and footsteps clamoring above us strike momentary fear into my heart. It feels like I am being watched. My boyfriend decides to go in deeper to the closet (I was too afraid, and relieved that he was standing next to the murder hole and not me). After a while, we ask the kids to manipulate the dowsing rod. Slowly, the rods begin to separate out at 180 degrees from each other. Our KII meters are spiking left and right near the rods, the flashlight is fucking with my peripheral vision and now I’m seeing things that are hopefully not there. I take my KII meter and move it around the other meters that are spiking off. The activity stops about four feet above the ground–right about at the height of a 10 year old child. I am having a legit paranormal experience, and I am almost paralyzed with fear. Well, fuck me. Even though I study and do magic and all that entails, this experience is just a little too real for my stoner brain. I was definitely relieved when the 3 hour investigation (which was actually only 20 minutes) was over.

Other fun highlights from the tour, after the jump.

Continue reading “All about that time when I got super stoned and went ghost hunting”

Herbal Riot

A Scrapbook of Sin

Unearthly Delights

A Scrapbook of Sin

The Occult Gallery

A Scrapbook of Sin

Mirrors at Home..

A Scrapbook of Sin

Memento Mori

A Scrapbook of Sin

𖦹

A Scrapbook of Sin

Death & Mysticism

A Scrapbook of Sin

A Scrapbook of Sin

BLACK GOAT

A Scrapbook of Sin