Post by Kyriotes on Mar 18, 2011 7:02:17 GMT -6
Having finished "Cults of Cthulhu" by Lord Satanis, I figured things might have changed for CoC. It seems that I may have been correct.
Before I launch into such things, I best introduce myself, perhaps with a personal anecdote.
As a shy youth in school, one would guess that the library was my sanctuary. Not to appear elitist, rather the opposite, I took refuge in the dusty halls. During the time of the horrible "Goosebumps" (see age; 26), I sought something better and found it. The stories of Poe delighted me so and taught reading comprehension of an antiquated English style of writing. After I voraciously tore through his stories, I had to find someone who wrote like him. Howard Philips, meek and uncertain; before finding his own voice mimicked the masters. He often wrote "Poe novels" I was content. His grand mythos became my security blanket. Surely, he was projecting himself in his works and it was comforting to find someone whose life appeared to parallel mine. Even at the age of 12 when I took my SCUBA certification course in the Hood Canal (zero visibility, colder than Hell), I was certain that if any deep gods or servitors were there, they'd, at the very least, make good use of me. After all, you can't expect a god to have a similar mindset to a human's. Sometimes, they'll eat you.
The time from then up to the present has been rife with success and crippling tragedy. I have seen the world and all the faces of humankind. As a layabout philosopher, I finally made a decision to marry my loves and seek out the CoC.
There appears to be plenty of hate directed at Lord Satanis for plagiarism and the like, yet it is my humble opinion that all knowledge is recycled (oh that blasted brain of ours). A lot of what I read in "Cults of Cthulhu" resembled my own essays. Carl Jung would be proud, one could assume. Regardless, I am here to learn, teach, hypothesize, and test.
The questions for joining the Herald of the Old Gods appear to have changed. I'm sending in the old questions' answers, considering how much time they took me (15 minutes shh).
Ooh, I haven't talked about my past experiences with the Left-handed path. Chaos Magic, although it is such a broad topic, has consumed the majority of my study followed by the ever delightful, Discordianism. Tried Goetia to no avail. Not even an altered state could make that work for me.
At the age of 16, I was kicked out of my home. After walking the streets of Portland, OR (quite lovely. Wasn't raped once. Almost though.) for nearly a year, I found the "Temple of Sound". A ragtag group of "rave hippies" living in a 3 story 1970's office building. I was welcomed with open arms and a never-ending supply of drugs. This is where my true study of the occult occurred. There were more books, candles, crystals, and herbs than you could shake a new age bookstore at. I was driven towards the so-called "dark" end of the occult. In mad hallucinogenic fits, I could engage in Necromancy and mirror scrying. My most vivid memory consists of me scoffing at the hippies and their superstition surrounding Ouija boards. I acquired materials and painted up one of the more beautiful boards I've seen, took a fair amount of shrooms, then regained consciousness with ash written on the board, my chest, and the walls. To this day, I hate incense.
These stories are non-fictionalized accounts of happenings in my life and I choose to believe that nothing supernatural occurred, merely the lovely mysteries of a drugged up mind. Out of all the shamans in the world, I cannot remember any type that do not engage in tripping their way into the spirit world.
Sadly, my introduction has turned into an overenthusiastic, early morning ramble.
Pleased to meet your acquaintance.
Before I launch into such things, I best introduce myself, perhaps with a personal anecdote.
As a shy youth in school, one would guess that the library was my sanctuary. Not to appear elitist, rather the opposite, I took refuge in the dusty halls. During the time of the horrible "Goosebumps" (see age; 26), I sought something better and found it. The stories of Poe delighted me so and taught reading comprehension of an antiquated English style of writing. After I voraciously tore through his stories, I had to find someone who wrote like him. Howard Philips, meek and uncertain; before finding his own voice mimicked the masters. He often wrote "Poe novels" I was content. His grand mythos became my security blanket. Surely, he was projecting himself in his works and it was comforting to find someone whose life appeared to parallel mine. Even at the age of 12 when I took my SCUBA certification course in the Hood Canal (zero visibility, colder than Hell), I was certain that if any deep gods or servitors were there, they'd, at the very least, make good use of me. After all, you can't expect a god to have a similar mindset to a human's. Sometimes, they'll eat you.
The time from then up to the present has been rife with success and crippling tragedy. I have seen the world and all the faces of humankind. As a layabout philosopher, I finally made a decision to marry my loves and seek out the CoC.
There appears to be plenty of hate directed at Lord Satanis for plagiarism and the like, yet it is my humble opinion that all knowledge is recycled (oh that blasted brain of ours). A lot of what I read in "Cults of Cthulhu" resembled my own essays. Carl Jung would be proud, one could assume. Regardless, I am here to learn, teach, hypothesize, and test.
The questions for joining the Herald of the Old Gods appear to have changed. I'm sending in the old questions' answers, considering how much time they took me (15 minutes shh).
Ooh, I haven't talked about my past experiences with the Left-handed path. Chaos Magic, although it is such a broad topic, has consumed the majority of my study followed by the ever delightful, Discordianism. Tried Goetia to no avail. Not even an altered state could make that work for me.
At the age of 16, I was kicked out of my home. After walking the streets of Portland, OR (quite lovely. Wasn't raped once. Almost though.) for nearly a year, I found the "Temple of Sound". A ragtag group of "rave hippies" living in a 3 story 1970's office building. I was welcomed with open arms and a never-ending supply of drugs. This is where my true study of the occult occurred. There were more books, candles, crystals, and herbs than you could shake a new age bookstore at. I was driven towards the so-called "dark" end of the occult. In mad hallucinogenic fits, I could engage in Necromancy and mirror scrying. My most vivid memory consists of me scoffing at the hippies and their superstition surrounding Ouija boards. I acquired materials and painted up one of the more beautiful boards I've seen, took a fair amount of shrooms, then regained consciousness with ash written on the board, my chest, and the walls. To this day, I hate incense.
These stories are non-fictionalized accounts of happenings in my life and I choose to believe that nothing supernatural occurred, merely the lovely mysteries of a drugged up mind. Out of all the shamans in the world, I cannot remember any type that do not engage in tripping their way into the spirit world.
Sadly, my introduction has turned into an overenthusiastic, early morning ramble.
Pleased to meet your acquaintance.
-The void cometh-