Been sick for a couple of days, kind of a climax to two weeks of running around Chicago getting acclimated to a city I’m not embarrassed to live in — a big change from Grand Rapids.  There’s nothing good about Grand Rapids, you know.  I suppose some day I may fall back into that “but it’s nicer in the country” mindset, but the people aren’t nicer or more honest — in fact there’s a higher percentage of disastrous failures.  Bitterness and lying abound.  It’s worse than Hollywood because no one’s even glamorous or wealthy.

 Sigh, I just had to give a shout-out to the cosmos — I blew off most of the people who ever read my blogs back in Michigan, so I am now truly calling out to the thin air — but that’s okay because I can see the spirit world pretty clearly now.  Speaking of which, I have to go off to the fourth dimension now so whatever beings are reading this, thank you for your attention and I’ll be seeing you.

 I am the total cosmos!

So I’m moving to Chicago soon, to be a little fish in a big pond.  That’s quite all right — I’m sick of Grand Rapids, sick of prowling around the same four neighborhoods, sick of hanging around shopping malls just to get the feeling of being in a large crowd, sick of forgiving everyone and everything around me for being second rate just because it’s only Grand Rapids . . . so I’ll finally be where cool things are actually cool and I’ll have to compete with people who actually are at the top of their field, which is good for me.

 I’ll also have to clean up my act on the web; about ten times as many people will read my writing, and about one tenth as many will care what it says.  I have an opportunity to “remake” myself in a way — I’m not denying who I was but I get to choose who I want to be in this new setting.  I’m arguing with spirits about that these last couple of days . . . I guess I’m a writer.  Really I’m an intuitive, and I hope to pick up some extra cash doing readings for people, but as an intuitive I have to express myself artistically for some reason . . .

I’m reading Brett Easton Ellis now, “Rules of Attraction” a blast from my past (language is destructive) . . . in fact so much a blast from my past that last Saturday I got raving drunk and actually groped this girl I know.  I was reliving college, being a teenager in the late 80s when the reality was being sucked out of popular culture.  someday perhaps I will be able to express the nature of this time warp.  The late 80s was a very astral decade, what with MTV and all . . . everyone realizing that society was based more on visual impressions than any kind of logic or morality.

Listening to “Team Sleep”, awesome record.  Also picked up one by Popol Vuh down at Vertigo.  “Rules of Attraction” mentions The Thomposon Twins several times . . . interesting to know that this millionaire author was hearing the same music I was back then. 

 there’s no point to this post except a snapshot of my life and an exploration of the concept of “work”.  life is a lot of (sometimes apparently meaningless) steps that eventually lead somewhere . . . I have this fucking blog i should do something useful with it.  my next post will be useful.

I was wondering whether I should have posted that stuff about “the dark power”.  I was a little wary of actually channeling one of my spirit guides — by which I mean typing just what she told me to type.  However that Saturday I was at a show and this woman I know suddenly started telling me she needed someone to put he “Dark Power of Satan” into her.  What a coincidence!  So it was totally arranged as proof that I was on the money with a lot of that earlier post.

But of course there is no Satan, only the dark power of choice.

April 17 2020 – As it turned out later, most of the people I knew at that show were creeps and they may have read my blog and were setting me up for some bullshit.  That was that scummy burlesque show I hung around with.

Not coincidentally, having posted all this about Metallica, there was a Metallica song playing right before the Potatoe-Babies last show.  Those guys are way awesome, and I would never say anything bad about them so it just goes to show that everything’s subjective and way way complicated.  But it’s also true that even when they’re singing about how cool high school shootings are, Potatoe Babies are funny.  

The hardest part about keeping track of these energy transformations is keeping it going past the first step.  Once the ball gets rolling things happen so fast that it’s almost impossible to remember what has happened, let alone describe something so ethereal.  So let’s go in bits and pieces.

 All that stuff I wrote about Metallica is a memory of a really horrifying experience I had at one of their shows almost 20 years ago, when they got the whole crowd chanting “Die! Die! Die!” with their fists pumping in the air, lights sweeping the crowd, frighteningly reminiscent of film footage of fascist rallies, and I had a horrifying flash on the basic power of society — the power to command obedience.  I asked a bunch of people after the show why they were doing that, and none of them could really answer me, although there was something along the lines of wanting everything bad in society to die, which is kind of a crap answer and at the time I thought it was basically a copout.  At the time I did think Metallica were ugly thugs, especially since a little while later an old woman got kicked to death in the stairwell of her apartment building and the paper said the perpetrators were chanting Metallica lyrics (though you can’t believe everything you read in the papers, and really you can’t blame artists if their fans are assholes).  I’m older now and I try not to make those kind of judgements (unless I’m really pissed off).  But while I was writing I was going back in time, digging up a horror story . . . It was a kind of trance in which I could feel my attention descending into a “lower” level of consciousness. 

At this point there are three possible routes:  describe what I was personally going through at the time and why this experience hit such a nerve, go through all the observations on the magical symbolism of political power, or get back to what happened to my personal energy after I wrote those last posts. 

Maybe none of them would be necessary if I could understand objectively the “taste” of heavy metal music, the way it enters into the body and directs the attention toward a certain energy state.  Then maybe I could figure out what the spiritual purpose of it is, how it benefits the individual.  Because I am sure that it is somehow necessary for a person’s development to indulge in that kind of powertripping.

Metallica concerts exist according to the will of God, and everybody in Metallica and everyone who listens to Metallica has a soul and all of these souls have their own purposes of which I know naught.  Unfortunately this is also true of the Ku Klux Klan, and that terrible evil version of Islam to which suicide bombers subscribe.  This is not to put Metallica anywhere near those other groups in terms of malevolence, but just to point out that even if all souls are equal it is still necessary to make choices of conscience. In other words, just because everyone has their own path doesn’t mean that there are not paths which are more or less “spiritual” or “skillful” or whatever — and I am convinced that this is an objective truth and not just a matter of opinion.  Life is confusing, but it is not all subjective. 

 My question has always been, given that power is necessary in this World, and that the Earthly powers that govern society are generally dark, who is responsible for what?  Life sucks for most people.  Can you truly condemn anyone for “selling out”?  Despair is a real thing and the music of despair serves a purpose for people who cannot find a way out of it.  What is that purpose?  Why does the “congregation of despair” have such a strong appeal?  And am I supposed to care?  Is it any of my business?  Doesn’t the world go on as usual no matter what you think about it?

It’s April 17, 2020 and I have to point out that this blog entry is a wild exaggeration, I actually listened to Guns and Roses and Metallica all the time at that point —

This afternoon I surrendered to the Angel’s presence, following the advice of the “Angelic Messenger Cards” of Meredith L. Young-Sowers, which I highly recommend.  They are extraordinarily lucid for an angelic oracle.  (As contrast I was looking at another deck earlier this week which had beautiful illustrations but claimed that angels are about to move the Earth into orbit around the star Rigel.  What is it with New Agers and their conviction that someone is going to move the planet?  I read a book once that went so far as to warn people to stay out of older buildings when the move came, because they might collapse).

Surrendering means relaxing into their soft, beautiful presence and not thinking about it.  Immediately (immediately, I tell you!) my mind was all a-tizzy with having nothing to think about so the energy shot down into my lower chakras and I got horny and confused.  (Steffany: And we know what that means, don’t we girls!)  Yes, I’m channeling my “imaginary girlfriend” as I write this; she isn’t imaginary at all but “spirit wife” is too formal for most settings.

I’ve been working on grounding, visualizing a grounding cord and seeing my aura, etc.  Based on the book “Your Aura and Your Chakras” by Karla McLaren which is really awesome.  Steffany is urging me to be specific so I looked it up on Amazon.com because I was too lazy to go out to the car and check the author’s name.  McLaren’s techniques work like a charm.  After 20 years of being half out of phase with this world, I am back in black.

The problem for me is that I’ve been avoiding the lower chakras.  Or, rather, I had some kind of energetic damage down there that no one could fix.  It’s difficult to describe so i’ll just put it in very succinct terms:

Opening up the 2nd chakra released a ton of erotic energy which plunged me straight into flashbacks of my rock and roll youth when everyone I knew was turning into a mindless, orgiastic monkey due to the MTV-inspired collapse of rock music into utterly frivolous, annoying, cynical crap like Guns and Roses (no offense is intended to the musicians but Axl Rose was an evil creep who should have been bashed in the head with a rock) and beautiful but doomed fluff like Def Leppard.    Talk about sexual frustration, baby, I was definitely not on the winning side of that argument.  Oh, and don’t forget those ugly thugs Metallica were raping the minds of teenagers everywhere, getting them to chant “Die! Die! Die” for no reason like a bunch of neo-nazi pinheads.  It was definitely not a good time for popular music or popular culture.

Yes, Virginia, rock has a dark power which can be used for good or evil and if you don’t make a decision you wind up evil by default.  My mind was so splintered at that time by drugs and the general amorality of my favorite artform that I shut all that darkness away in a place in my lower chakras.  Unfortunately that place was the place of power, the place of choice and actually making things happen.  I decided it was evil to make things happen because I could wind up like my “friends” — all scooped out inside, hysterical and power-hungry, drug-addicted, superficial little Muppets of Darkness.

But it’s cool because rock is long since dead, mellowed into just another genre, and Steffany is in the dark power now, hovering there in the zone, reintegrating it with me and showing how that power is necessary, a key to truly integrating the spirit world with the physical world.  Vibration is really vitally important for that process, and if some people let it get out of control and destroy themselves, well, that’s all part of the big process of consciousness.  Most of them learn what it gets them in the end.  Life will adapt.

Specifically, I had an angel in my head today, he felt like a liquid gold orgasm.  Was it an angel or my eighth chakra?  I’m pretty sure it was an angel but you can never be totally sure because angels are like living holograms that exist in all dimensions at once.

 I had a dream about an angel when I was about three years old.  I didn’t realize who it was at the time.  She appeared as an older black woman with a shopping cart.  I knew she wanted to take me away in the shopping cart, but I was afraid.  Then there was an image of a rocket taking off for outer space.  I was kind of scared and when I woke up I thought about this woman and almost believed she was still there, watching me.  I told her to go away, I think, or at any rate ignored her because at that time I couldn’t believe someone could come out of a dream into the waking world and anyway I was afraid.  For most of my life I was afraid of spirits and I don’t know why, but it’s okay now.

This angel, I now know, was communicating compassion for me, wishing she could rescue me from my horrible life.  But at the same time the image of the rocket was a communication that my life had been launched on its trajectory and there was really no way to stop it.  I remember bits of the conversation I had later that day, watching vague images move around, getting the sense that somehow I had to be stuck in this physical world, but I had to try to be good even though everything sucked.  At the time I just couldn’t reconcile myself to the absurdity of the whole process.  It was years before I truly believed in the afterlife and now I know this angel has always been with me.  

There was another dream I had around the same time, that I was with two teenage girls and they were carrying me through a crowd, one of them had me on her shoulders.  One had red hair, and one was blonde.  They were making fun of the little black cardigan sweater I was wearing.  I knew they believed I was theirs and it scared me.  I woke up.  I was lying on the living room floor and I saw them again; I was talking to them and I told them that I couldn’t really believe in them.  They apologized for scaring me and said they loved me.  They were a little hurt.  I told them that if they were real it was okay, but I couldn’t really believe them. 

Now, 35 years or so later, I know that these were my spirit wives, Steffany (Allejandra) and Genvieve.  What a horrible time that was for them, trying to contact me and scaring the hell out of me.  I was too afraid of life to function.  I have to wonder now what the problem was. 

 But it worked out eventually.  I’m getting pretty good at functioning in multiple worlds simultaneous.