Cosmic Electronics.... Simple geometric arrangements of materials which can detect and distribute living energies anywhere in the universe without any physical connection!!
THE COSMIC PULSE OF LIFE
The Revolutionary Biological Power behind UFOs
Trevor James Constable
Borderland Sciences
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Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Cosmic Electronics
Friday, January 14, 2005
Angel of Light
In the darkness a strange light began to shine. I could just make out the features of some devilish creature...
Thursday, January 13, 2005
The Cursed Bed
Original Post
Someone stole my bed once...
I put it outside to air out...
came back later and it was gone...
It was my escape pod from the missus at the time...
I slept right on the floor for at least two years if I wanted to get away to my own sleep space.
Anyway, I cursed that mattress and whoever had it to unspeakable horror in their sleep...
But, alas, being only the humbled reincarnation of Aleister Crowley, no one will report in one hundred years that the bed of Chris Titan has been exorcised.
Quite the contrare, that cursed mattress, a mattress that I stole from a pretty nasty group home...god knows what transpired on it before I had it...to make it worthy of me...and that matress will be handed down by the junkie skum who stole it for 100 more years. It will be that nasty mattress left in a field that teen agers find themselves passed out on, covered in vomit, and not remebering what happened...black out
The black outs are notorious from lounging on this artifact of my outrage, recharged a hundred nights as I slept on blankets against the hard wood floor. No one can tell you...they cannot describe...and do not remember...the mind numbing agony of pitiless terror...the rageing threat that consumes but never actually bring you to the sweet point of deaths release...time slows to a minute crawl...the scream of the throat slow and droning...the inverted udgita...the OM of the void place of the spirit. The roar every moment more fierce, each second a pang of fresh fear, more deep and anxious than the last, every heart beat a gasp of panic....
Yeah, they stole my bed...
I found a foam pad at the fabric store for $30.00 on sale and it worked like magick...
Someone stole my bed once...
I put it outside to air out...
came back later and it was gone...
It was my escape pod from the missus at the time...
I slept right on the floor for at least two years if I wanted to get away to my own sleep space.
Anyway, I cursed that mattress and whoever had it to unspeakable horror in their sleep...
But, alas, being only the humbled reincarnation of Aleister Crowley, no one will report in one hundred years that the bed of Chris Titan has been exorcised.
Quite the contrare, that cursed mattress, a mattress that I stole from a pretty nasty group home...god knows what transpired on it before I had it...to make it worthy of me...and that matress will be handed down by the junkie skum who stole it for 100 more years. It will be that nasty mattress left in a field that teen agers find themselves passed out on, covered in vomit, and not remebering what happened...black out
The black outs are notorious from lounging on this artifact of my outrage, recharged a hundred nights as I slept on blankets against the hard wood floor. No one can tell you...they cannot describe...and do not remember...the mind numbing agony of pitiless terror...the rageing threat that consumes but never actually bring you to the sweet point of deaths release...time slows to a minute crawl...the scream of the throat slow and droning...the inverted udgita...the OM of the void place of the spirit. The roar every moment more fierce, each second a pang of fresh fear, more deep and anxious than the last, every heart beat a gasp of panic....
Yeah, they stole my bed...
I found a foam pad at the fabric store for $30.00 on sale and it worked like magick...
Charged Water
There is a story published on Digital Falcon about charged water.
If it is true there may be a strange electric type field that is assisting the strange grail creatures to come to life...
If it is true there may be a strange electric type field that is assisting the strange grail creatures to come to life...
Grail Creatures
Reading about the complex structure of rain water...gave me an excitement when the metal bowl was filled to the brim under the kind of blue sky that only comes after a big storm.
The metal bowl was set upon a wooden beam...a 3x3 I think...it was the mote pulled out of my eye by Clay on my 30th birthday...I dragged it around for years before I figured out it was an altar. Next to this 3 ft tall 3x3 is a 4 1/2 foot piece of rebar that is grounded into the earth about 2 feet. The metal bowl is resting un the rebar and the altar is at an angle.
When I gazed down into the crystal clear water...there were these small green growths and tiny twisted black seeds...and something else that took longer to define.
It was bits of a grey waterloged worm...
The worm was eating the seeds and was eaten by a bird...carried off dangling in its beak...when fate twisted it free of the bird and right into the water...if not for the bowl the severed worm would have lived...I gazed long enough to see his dissolved bloated worm face...its body like a fabric worn thin...
The worm ate the seeds
The bird ate the worm
The bird dropped the worm into the bowl of water...
The seeds have sprouted underwater.
The metal bowl was set upon a wooden beam...a 3x3 I think...it was the mote pulled out of my eye by Clay on my 30th birthday...I dragged it around for years before I figured out it was an altar. Next to this 3 ft tall 3x3 is a 4 1/2 foot piece of rebar that is grounded into the earth about 2 feet. The metal bowl is resting un the rebar and the altar is at an angle.
When I gazed down into the crystal clear water...there were these small green growths and tiny twisted black seeds...and something else that took longer to define.
It was bits of a grey waterloged worm...
The worm was eating the seeds and was eaten by a bird...carried off dangling in its beak...when fate twisted it free of the bird and right into the water...if not for the bowl the severed worm would have lived...I gazed long enough to see his dissolved bloated worm face...its body like a fabric worn thin...
The worm ate the seeds
The bird ate the worm
The bird dropped the worm into the bowl of water...
The seeds have sprouted underwater.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Titanticles I
I leave the dinner party high on homemade Absinth. I am in that godlike state where you see your power clearly and I decide to go fishing.
I blow into my house and grab my pole. I live a few blocks from the bay. It is very late almost 4:00 in the morning...
The bay is still and black like I have never seen it...errie
I reach into my pocket for the handful of marshmellows I was using for bait.
I lobbed the marshmellow deep into the blackness, and then I swerved against the tension of my line in the water.
The lights cast a perfect reflection of the bridge and the boats...it was like a post card...I swayed on the grey floation kyack launching dock, feeling the gentle pulse of the still water.
I looked around to see that the place was fairly populated with hip young junkies, out of doors with gear...a young girl...junk raw sees me baiting my pole and stops at the top of the dock and asks in a etherial curiosity "what is that?"
A fishing pole!
This scene throws me into a Burroughs jag just when I get a bite on my line...the electric sensation when that fish grabbed that marshmellow...as I settled back into my skin I realized that the fish had just taken a hit of marshmellow and would be coming back for more...I was a death dealing marshmellow pusher.
Everything was so quite and I was casting the marshmellow out into the black mirror over and over again...until I began to fear the tenticles just slipping out of the dark water and silently pulling me into the water.
"They would just think I was drunk" I thought to myself.
I blow into my house and grab my pole. I live a few blocks from the bay. It is very late almost 4:00 in the morning...
The bay is still and black like I have never seen it...errie
I reach into my pocket for the handful of marshmellows I was using for bait.
I lobbed the marshmellow deep into the blackness, and then I swerved against the tension of my line in the water.
The lights cast a perfect reflection of the bridge and the boats...it was like a post card...I swayed on the grey floation kyack launching dock, feeling the gentle pulse of the still water.
I looked around to see that the place was fairly populated with hip young junkies, out of doors with gear...a young girl...junk raw sees me baiting my pole and stops at the top of the dock and asks in a etherial curiosity "what is that?"
A fishing pole!
This scene throws me into a Burroughs jag just when I get a bite on my line...the electric sensation when that fish grabbed that marshmellow...as I settled back into my skin I realized that the fish had just taken a hit of marshmellow and would be coming back for more...I was a death dealing marshmellow pusher.
Everything was so quite and I was casting the marshmellow out into the black mirror over and over again...until I began to fear the tenticles just slipping out of the dark water and silently pulling me into the water.
"They would just think I was drunk" I thought to myself.
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