Friday, June 27, 2014
It was a pleasant April afternoon of raspberry ice cream dollops and cancerous polyps, or of sweets from Spain and candy canes spoiled with nicotine stains from the damned or deranged.
The air floated with a spring-like melody of screaming banshees infested with fleas, and I could not help but quaff the pleasant aroma of spring showers, foul breath, and fouler whiskey sours. I speak, of course, of Montreal; that haven of habitants and nonchalance, or of gorgeous girls and repetitive grunts.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Lupus in fabula
Bawon Garou is an entity not to be visited or conjured by any white man, much less non-Haitian. The vodou lwa are a complicated sort of species, temperamental but generally inviting to those who ultimately seek to serve them. This is true especially of the Rada lwa, and to a far lesser extent the Petwo lwa. There are other lwa who will accomodate only those of a certain ancestral lineage, or those certain members of established societies.
In a miniscule minority exist a category of lwa in a far darker realm – not entirely evil, per se, but certainly worth avoiding by all but the most unscrupulous practitioners and underground societies.
Bawon Garou is a twisted lwa of the graveyard, a wolf spirit, or, perhaps more appropriately, a spirit containing and embodying both the elements and spirit of a man and wolf. He is to be summoned only in situations in which the practitioner seeks to become a wolf, or a wolf man. Like most vodou lwa, he is summoned and given offerings via an altar – preferably containing wolf related items. Some altars have made use of images of Lon Chaney, Jr. in The Wolf Man, while others have included Norse fetish Fenrir items and amulets from Scandinavian mythology .
His colors have long been disputed – some suggest red and black, while others prefer strictly black. If one is to make an offering to Bawon Garou, it should be of flesh and bone - he will only accept animal sacrifices. As per the European magick tradition, the most preferable time for a ritual is, of course, the night of a full moon. If you are to honor Bawon Garou, be careful that no other vodou altars exist in your home as his presence is detested by most of the lwa.
So-called European Satanic rituals are preferred to more traditional vodou rituals even though Bawon Garou is known to despise whites. His origin has been speculated, but is said to be the spirit of a French plantation owner who righted his wrongs and manifested the form of the man-wolf during the Haitian Revolution to mutilate and mangle the overseers of mistreated slaves.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
I present a mere snippet from a book detailing the uniquely occultist paradigm of Pierre LeClercq, a magus and conjurer of the darkest variety…
Nemo me impune lacessit
There is a demon known as Baptath, colloquially known as the “Righter of Wrongs” or “Great Deceptor”, who is conjured and evoked via the Archimedian spiral, and is associated with alcohol. There are several variations upon his symbol but to the uninitiated, a simple Archimedian spiral is not only preferable but highly advised.
Baptath will suffer the intended no impunity. Indeed, Baptath is as ancient as primordial man’s own need for revenge, and should not be approached for trivial matters. In cases of exceptional obnoxiousness and abhorrent behavior that demand an equally exceptionally obnoxious and abhorrent retribution, a practitioner will consume alcohol, cast a circle and recite the following incantation:
You and I and thee,
The bastards, the bastions or the royal we,
Do declare and inspire Lucifer’s empire,
As we embrace and embody the doubted and dire.
Thou knowest the recipient of my curse,
And hope you shall revenge for my recourse.
Baptath, be a host to my skin,
Envelope my flesh and compound my sin.
Baptath, play host to my desire,
For you are the sire of loathing and ire.
Baptath, the fallen angel of the drunk and binger,
Remain my primary and only revenger.
At this point a practitioner will verbally state his complaint with the intended. After the successful execution of revenge the magician will supply Baptath with an offering of wine, spirits, or beer – the amount dependent upon the gravity of the request.
Baptath, like most entities, is not fond of evocation but will appear in physical form. He possesses the head of a goat and the body of a wolf, and is notorious for his insistence on pomp and circumstance. He will expect a royal reception - plentiful offerings and flattery – as payment for his manifestation.
Monday, March 10, 2014
In his trademarked beret and poncho, Fuller K. LaRouche embodies the contemporary sexual guerilla – a narcissistic, masochistic conquistador of suppressed desires. LaRouche – the nearly autistic partisan of this generation’s suburban milieu – has enlightened Brooklyn (and displaced more than a few natives) with his newest designs in the depraved – Human Ant Farm.
LaRouche has broken the mold for the art show in kidnapping a herd of genuine Mongolian tribesmen and bringing them to Western civilization – only to force them to coexist in a commune with bourgeoisie performance artists behind a two way mirror (all to the delight and dismay of passerbys).
LaRouche, the clown pope of the perpetually offended, skirts and rejects the controversy stemming from this human trafficking incident by rightfully defending his work as an obtuse exercise in bimodalism – which is to say, a gruesome compare and contrast between the metaphysical frustration and oblivion of both Central Asian nomads and contemporary American artists.
The result is simply, and unadulteratedly, outstanding. Although this neo-Dadaist human zoo has nearly resulted in several homicides and a decapitation, LaRouche plans on not only seeing the exhibit through for the duration of the spring, but also on abducting another indigenous tribe for a similar exhibit in Berlin which will feature mimes and amputee circus performers.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
This October - that beloved season of witching, warlocking and werewolving - I am delighted to present another guest blogger who will present five tales of the terrifying.
Unfortunately it will not be the good Dr. von Gastly, who is undergoing both an extensive medical license review and a nasty malpractice suit due to his rather, ahem, unconventional techniques.
Count Drunkula and his codependent sidekick, the 3-Dimensional Wolf Boy, but mostly Count Drunkula, will unveil a litany of lewd and lascivious cinema – a marathon, if you will, of obscure films no longer extant and lost to history.
The B-movie horror host and his assistant, formerly of KXFP in Kenosha, Wisconsin – were recently paroled for charges stemming from an incident back in Halloween, 1981.
The duo, having been terminated from their positions as the resident masters of ceremonies after the cancellation of Kenosha’s own Late Nite Horror Hijinks - hijacked the KXFP airwaves on October 31st, 1981 for a 17 hour unsolicited horror marathon that ultimately ended in a standoff and shootout with the Wisconsin State Police.
Who better to host a list of the most unnatural and unnerving films never known to general audiences than this deranged duo? This All Hallow’s Eve prepare for another installment of Tales of the Mad and the Macabre.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
My latest dalliance with the demonic, That Damned Goat, appears in the February 23rd, 2014 edition of Schlock!.
I have yet to find a creditable online vendor willing to shill my merchandise; including but not limited to various trinkets of my travels such as shrunken heads, genuine hoodoo dolls, and discounted freak show paraphernalia.
However, you can buy a t-shirt containing the helpful Damned Goat infographic/flow chart above - guaranteed to confound and horrify your friends and employer.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
The exquisite demon child, Fuller K. LaRouche, has again shocked the censors and uprooted the bourgeoisie with an arthouse cinema classic for our current malaise – Female Ejaculation in a Mobile Home.
LaRouche, in his cosmic wisdom (and with significant funding from the nearly insolvent Portuguese government) has crafted a wonderful story of a racist Wyoming bank teller who drowns her children, abandons her husband, and finds a true feminist calling in the former Soviet Republic as a wet nurse. Upon arriving in a primitive commune and being forced to marathon nurse hundreds of babes, our proud heroine elopes with a mustachioed yet sensitive police captain cum women’s rights activist, who escorts her to Turkey. After their arrival in Ankara, the police captain abandons her for his own calling in competitive beard growing.
This Medean tale of tragedy will not be found in your local, corporate, mouth-breathing multiplex – nay, LaRouche would never sully his reputation as an artistic outsider by creating a film that elicited entertainment and joy rather than guilt, confusion, and generalized alienation.