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Sep. 29th, 2009

Her. The power of her. The memory of her. The strength of love. The strength of love past.

I find it easy to think about her. Her thought overwhelms all emotions; all pain, all loss. A love that I know I can't have, but I've accepted that. I'm okay with that. I find calmness in my love for her. It is such a profound love that I am blissfully happy that I can just experience something that strong.

A love unique to all others;a past life, a cellular memory, a singularity, a rib. It is some something wholly special. Wrapped within the warmth and once again basking in what I locked away in vaults of iron and bone; I feel it's warmth and welcome it's constant vibration. In this vibration I can center myself and fight off the demons that haunt me. Her memory gives me the strength and courage to meet what I must do.

Fred would know. Fred would understand. Why it is that Dana and I have to break this girl..
I'm tired. So tired. All those years of action, of fighting the good fight, of moving. I hate the smell of this, my sickbed, but I also don't want to leave. I never have to go outside; it comes to me instead. I'm not lazy, just..sick of moving all the time.

Why is it that when we stop moving we become less worthy? Is it because we are less likely to be found? Hmmmph. Maybe I don't want to be found. {the sound of my value plummeting}.

i dreamed of you last night

I kept wondering where she kept her soul. I kept asking why I knew nothing about her time outside of me.

You leaned your head on my shoulder and weaved your fingers into mine. All the fingers were wet and another tear dripped onto them. You didn't wipe it off. I looked at them and I knew I could never forget them, your glassy fingers, full of purity. You always held them straight, not curled, as your hands hung at your sides. You'd walk slowly, swinging them gently, measured arcs of tranquil movement. Your hands in a book, pressed around a too-angular pencil, writing in cursive, making swishing sounds. Your hands gesturing, fingers splayed; you were passionate in conversation and you talked with your words and your hands. Your hands. Of course they were soft, they were cool and clean. Both your hands in mine.

I am some days better than others, some days worse than before, but never bad enough that I can't dread the next day more. I wake up and I go to sleep and in between I either look back or ahead, wanting one or the other to keep me going.

I stop here. I go back to the beginning. Your hands in my memory. You caress my mind. I keep that to live on. I have it. I hold it.

Not a day goes by that I don't think about her.

I'm still not over her.

I don't know if I ever will be.
Everything is going to go away. Everything is ephemeral. You have to deal with that; there's no choice. We all die and, sadly, sometimes more than once. But inevitably even these second chances will be ripped from us one day; the magick can only spread so far, certainly. You will die. Everyone who knew you will die, and everyone they knew will die too. Even if our children or great-great-grandchildren make the leap to incorruptible silicon synapses and simulated biochemicals and infinitely reproducible digital minds, living on near zero energy with megahertz thoughts that span centuries, eventually the universe will dodder towards maximum entropy and none of it will mean a thing anymore. More's the pity. It had been going a bit better for me these days, really.Collapse )

Oct. 27th, 2008

With Halloween on the horizon, burning questions about the undead need to be answered: Can being a zombie be considered suffering?


I expect any number of zombies have asked themselves the same.
They seem content enough, the ones that have sentience anyway.


So.. people.
Been researching the writings of Chang Ch'ien. It was hard finding an original transcript, but I finally met an occultist from Tien Shan, who was willing to FAX me a copy.

As our young friend Mr. Aragaki had already touched upon, this sort of thing has happened before, in other towns, presumably with the same or similar god or gods.



Oh dear. This doesn't look promising.
If a modern mind is trying to understand a deity from another time and another place in the original context, that modern mind automatically brings that deity into a new context...the here and now of its own consciousness.

Even on a merely conceptual level the deity is transformed by that new time and that new place. Into the magic circle of that modern mind a new understanding has been summoned..similarly when you are disliked by anyone for whatever reason unless events intervene the animosities will continue building their own life and usually, from my experience, are given expression. A god even more so. Centuries of neglect, of no longer being praised, worshiped, petitioned with prayer and sacrificed to.. this is more so than the rancor of an older parent left to lurk in the lonely exile of empty nest syndrome. The grudge of an abandoned god.. even though it has finally been re-called, re-acknowledged, how can it not come back out of the emptiness with a very real and deep hate for all mankind ancestrally?

Meanwhile, changes to the strength of the solar wind are real, and imminent. What this means for earth's climatology and that of the Sun is the Sun is retaining more energy, gaining weight, and this entails an expansion of the impact of its gravity. The enhancement of Kuiper belt activity is thus very likely.

Remember then, that The Order were a cult that worshiped the Sun, and fire. They offered blood sacrifice to appease the Sun and fend back this fog and this darkness that are more than our portion now. The curse upon this land we find ourselves within is the curse these people's ancestors strove to hold back. Will this God lift the curse? or rain down a far more terrible anger upon us for the simple act of being here when She was wakened?
Because the darkness knots itself up inside of us, all the squirming uncomfortable doubts and worries and insinuations just pile up in our core and beg to be let out. Maybe we’re wired to have some irresistible but insatiable longing - an inconsolable ache, an unscratchable itch. We’re addicts, but we’ve forgotten to which drug we’ve been chained. There’s an emptiness in our hearts that keeps us from becoming complacent, from settling down or living our lives without consideration and questioning.

I suspect women have the power to give you everything, as well as the power to take it all away. The destiny of every man is enveloped within the stories of the women who shape his life, all one can do is pray the story one is entangled in at present isn't headed for tragedy.

I guess I'm scared that I'll never be put back together. I need a re-do. Control-Z. An explosion of magic dust and starlight, a blank slate in place of the dust-covered ghosttown that is my life. I guess I need this disaster; some fire-eyed monster sharp in tooth and claw to descend upon me and wrench out my soul like pulling a silk sheath from its earthly vial. Not this pent-up nothingness of whittling my thumbs waiting for the wonderful to occur. I will crack open this shell and breathe free. I will make something of myself and stop carving the word self-pity into my broken-record skull. I will, I will. I am worth something. I can, I will, I am.
It took me forever to get over it, these torn frayed threads of my heart.
Why did you choose your user name? Is there any special meaning or story behind it?


Oh yes. It has a meaning, alright.

flower power?

Aglaophotis:"the soul which shows the truth".

Has anyone heard of this? It may be useful in our fight against the coming 'god'.

The Greek doctor Dioscorides named Aglaophotis as a member of the peony family, Paeoniaceae. It has been speculated that the species paeonia officinalis, or the European peony, is the source of Aglaophotis, but there is little evidence to prove this theory.

According to Dioscorides, peony is used for warding off demons, witchcraft, and fever. This is at odds with the presentation in the Necronomicon, in which it is used to call upon dark forces.

In lore, aglaophotis was used by the Magi to summon and dispel demons; in a most basic sense, it is a spirit-repelling potion that will burn or drive away creatures that are more supernatural than physical in nature. The following details about aglaophotis should be kept in mind:

-Spirits, genii, ghosts, Eldritch beings, fae, and other creatures of this kind will be burned as if by acid and, (in the case of a possession or a nonphysical spirit) forced away from the physical plane, if struck by aglaophotis.

-The substance is extremely powerful, but the most powerful beings, (Great Old Ones, for example) would only be mildly injured by it.

-Not all supernatural creatures are burned or driven away by it. Lycans, generic monsters, the weak undead, and any creature that cannot be classified as true Eldritch or Otherworldly will not be affected.

Ælian recommends the use of the dog to pluck the herb aglaophotis, which shines at night. When the dog has dragged up the root, and died of terror, his body is to be buried on the spot with religious honours and secret sacred rites.

reference: Cynospastus herba alio nomine aglaophotis dicitur (recordatus enim fidem liberare volo) haec per diem inter ceteras herbas, a quibus ne minimum quidem differt, delitescit, nec ullo modo agnoscitur; nocte vero stella instar lucens, et igneo splendore coruscans, facile in conspectum venit. Itaque signo ad radices ejus defixo discedunt, absque eo neque colorem ejus interdiu, neque speciem cognituri. Nocte jam exacta adventant, et herbam signo agnoscunt; evellere vero, aut circumfodere tantum, cavent: primum enim, qui ejus naturae imperitus eam attigit, periisse ferunt. Canem igitur juvenem adducunt diei spatio famelicum, et funiculum validum arctissime ad inferiorem herbae stipitem vinctum cani etiam alligant, et carnes assas multas ei objiciunt, quam longissime interim possunt recedentes: canis nidore motus, impetu ad carnes fertur, et herbam radicitus eruit; cunctis radices si sol viderit, canis mox exspirat, ex secretis quibusdam ceremoniis, utpote in ipsorum gratiam extinctus, sepelitur. Tum demum herbam contingere et secum domum ferre audent. usus ejus ad multa celebratur: et inter cetera, ad comitialem morbum remedium ex ea homini commendnat; item ad oculorum vitium, quod, delato in eos humore nimio, videndi facultatem adimit.



It is written in the Necronomicon: And to summon these and other Demons, the herb AGLAOPHOTIS must be burnt in a new bowl that must be the Evil Times, and at Night. But the Priest has the formulae..

The priest? Any of this strike a chord, Father Vincent?

The herb names olierobos and aglaophotis that play such a prominent role in the book, for instance, do have particular meanings. Further, one could argue that using aglaophotis, or peonies, to call up demons when it traditionally drove them away is curious. Aglaophotis usually is a herb used to keep a space purified.

I suppose all of this is moot if we've not got any aglaophotis, but perhaps we could grow some? I know there's a garden in the bowling alley.. surely the seeds could be obtained and the plant forced that we might obtain this particular magical resin quickly?


edit/update: I still believe I may be on to something here. If we accept that Aglaophotis may be from a form of peony..

The peony is named after Pæon or Paean, a student of Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine and healing. According to the myths, Asclepius became jealous of his pupil; Zeus saved Paeon from the wrath of Asclepius by turning him into the peony flower.

According to the Language of Flowers, Mischievous nymphs were said to hide in the petals of the Peony thus causing this magnificent flower to be given the meaning of Shame or Bashfulness in the Language of Flowers. It was named after Pæon, a physician to the gods, who obtained the plant on Mount Olympus from the mother of Apollo. Once planted the Peony likes to be left alone and punishes those who try to move it by not flowering again for several years. Once established, however, it produces splendid blooms each year for decades.

Along with the plum blossom, it is a traditional floral symbol of China, where it is called 牡丹 (mǔ dān). It is also known as 富贵花 (fuguihua) "flower of riches and honour". In Japan, Paeonia lactiflora used to be called ebisugusuri ("foreign medicine"). In kampo (the Japanese adaptation of Chinese medicine), its root was used as a treatment for convulsions..

Oh wait.

Pronunciation of 牡丹 (peony) in Japan is "botan". Before the Meiji period, meat taken from quadrupeds was seldom consumed in Japan due to Buddhism. Thus in cases where such meat was handled, it was paraphrased using the names of flowers. The term botan was used (and is still used) to paraphrase wild boar meat. This comes from the flowery resemblance of the sliced meat when spread over a dish. Another example is sakura (cherry blossoms) which stands for horsemeat.

Didn't Xulchilbara recently mention something about cherry blossoms?

So.. possibly aglaophotis is some kind of pork product????
..it might prove edifying, or useful, or hold some sort of parallel to the cult we're studying.

But then, of course, perhaps not.

Nonetheless..roughly, it translates as so..

A page from E'oc - The Dead Goddess
Come travelers, and I will tell you the story of the Dead Goddess...

There is a legend that has been passed down through the ages.
Stories tell of a girl who once gave her life to release a prince who was trapped within a cage of thorns. The prince's cry shook the foundation of the girl's soul. The girl threw herself into the thorns, and the thorns took her, sparing the prince. What the girl did not know, was that the Prince was the avatar of the Judge of the Dead. Everyone in E'oc saw death as an evil. A sickness that no one could be cured from. Now this girl, just so happened to be the daughter of the local magistrate. Word spread quickly of her sacrifice. Soon, commonfolk and Lords heard of the kindness that had been paid to death.

The Judge of the dead gave the girl a gift for her bravery. He granted to her the power of reincarnation, allowing her to always jump between the living and dead realms. He also bestowed onto her a portion of his own power.

She returned to the world, in form of a Bronze Dragoness, preached her story, so that people will not fear consequence when making a sacrifice.

The Goddess remains in the realm of the dead until events within the world blanket the world in fear and despair.