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Writer's pictureThad McKraken

Drone Distortion Vibes for the Win



7/2/2024 –


For the second night in a row I’m not remembering a whole lot here. First I’m once again at a family gathering and it’s like we just missed one side of the family who got together the day before without even telling us. I’m honestly sort of annoyed with this because it’s happened so many times at this point. When one of them arrives I just keep going through all the examples of when they’ve done this and the thing is, I don’t really think they’re doing it to be mean. I just think they’re idiots. I’m yelling at them while I’m doing this but I’m not even mad. A part of me didn’t really want to hang out with them anyway. I’m just pointing out the absurdity of their continual incompetence.


In the next sitch it’s like I’m hanging out with these people who work at a bar and one of these people is Zia McCabe from The Dandy Warhols. They’re holding some sort of fundraising event and at a certain point I’m back in the employees only area when she realizes that she accidentally lost all the money they raised. She’s leaning over, looking at the place under the sink where she stored it like:


“I think I accidentally just threw all that money in the trash when I took out the trash.”


She doesn’t seem super broken up about it though, which is certainly odd. Instead we’re just chatting in this kitchen area. She’s telling me that she’s well aware that I’m not really a fan of her band (which is absolutely true), but she insists I’d probably dig this one album with a peacock on the cover. This is genuinely funny because it’s like she doesn’t even know the name of her own band’s work but she says it a few times. You’d dig the album with the peacock art cover. Ok then. I just looked it up and nope, the Dandy Warhols do not have an album with a peacock on the cover.


One more vision of a futuristic tan colored tramline descending into a city. It’s got all these boxy components and it’s like a monorail if the carts were hanging from the top of the rail rather than being on top of it. Multiple smaller individual cabins rather than a larger bus like configuration. It’s definitely coming down into this Bladerunner-esque city from somewhere high above but where it’s coming from? No idea.


7/3/2024 –


In the first sitch I’m on a retro brown living room couch having a conversation with several other unidentified peeps about how Tom Brady is very much the shining example of the best in a particular field. In other sports or even other disciplines, an argument can be made for an alternative GOAT but in pro football. Nope. 7 goddamn Super Bowls. No one else is even close at this point.


In the next scenario I’m going to sleep in some alternate reality. It’s an older house with a lot of excellent wood paneling, because of course. When I start to get under, I’m now heading into the vibrational sleep paralysis state except that here it’s different. Sound is causing this. Music. Living music that I’d maybe describe as mildly harsh drone machine shit. A solitary held synth note thrown through a light distortion effect. Then layered into it are some swirling probably at least slightly envelope filtered swirling key parts.


It's legit not super complicated but also goddamn amazing and the important thing is that it’s heightening my consciousness and lifting me out of my body. The more the sensory overload dirty drone intensity ramps up, the further I fly out of myself.



As I’m ascending to the ceiling of this alternate reality house with the music wave crescendo, I want it to happen so bad. At one point I reach my arms out of my body and I’m told:


“Be careful.”


Okay then. I try to let the music escort me out of myself entirely but once again I can’t really do it. The music thing was different though, and freaking amazing if I’m being honest. In another state I’m now told that this is why Tom Brady was so good. In pressure situations he manages to focus his consciousness into this sorcerous musical state. Being able to continually summon this intuitive tie to the other realm consistently at the right time is what separated him from the rest of the crop. Seems about right honestly.


In the next scenario I’m at a dinner party with my family (because of course). I’m talking to my one aunt and telling her how a rumor got started on the other side of the family that I smoke cigarettes, which I absolutely do not. And the thing is, I now can’t convince them that this is not true. Despite the fact that I’ve never smoked cigarettes in my life, they believe the rumor over either my own words or any evidence. Interesting commentary on human behavior in general and moreover, the one side of my family pretty much does think I’m a drunk, even though I haven’t drank much in over a decade. I only see them at parties a couple times a year when I’m drinking so I completely understand this assumption.


Now a vision of a young pale child with a black mop hair cut in a white hospital bed on the verge of death. He’s having a conversation with a phantom Spiderman hovering above him and his mother is by his bedside.


“But you don’t understand, I could hear Spiderman talking to him.”


She explains. This is seemingly a response to a “skeptics” article on near death experiences I read the other day. The fact that living people often witness aspects of these experiences themselves was obviously excluded from the article on purpose. Obviously. Lots of people want to live in the smallest universe possible.  


7/4/2024 –


I’m ganj-i-tating and I float into this trance vision where I’m driving on a freeway into the city and the options are to make a slightly awkward and illegal turn into a lane veering off the main road to the right or into slow moving traffic. I don’t think getting off the main road is the answer and I’m not sure why, but this annoys me. Obviously no one likes sitting in traffic and I’m suddenly aware that I’m in a trance so I should have some control over the situation. I pull my consciousness back, try to use my magick powers and when I do, it’s not really working.


I’m trying to fly up above the sea of cars but it just ain’t happening for whatever reason. Now I’m trying to phase through them. This is only sort of working too. Eventually, rather than trying, I kind of disassociate from the scene. Now something takes the controls and starts warping me upward. I was sort of trying to go through the cars and they’re reminding me that no. I need to make my own road into the sky, above the road. As I start to ascend this now glowing highway to the heavens, my consciousness leaves any trace of humanity behind. I am now living abstract art.


Strange configurations of thought warping from one lived experience inside a fantastical internal mind painting to the next. There is no human form to what I’ve become. What’s it feel like to be nothing other than floating and otherworldly beauty? Deliriously eerie in a way. This is how you ascend to the higher realms. You become this spectacular form of inhuman alien art intelligence.


Later in a dream a head of some sort of large organization is hiring me for contract work. I can’t tell if this is a huge corporation or a criminal enterprise or government spook sitch. Feels like a huge corporation if I’m trusting my gut.


Anyway, we’re in this top floor having a very secretive conversation. The guy wants me to invade the minds of some of the people working under him and the hierarchy here is represented in a visual metaphor. He’s talking to me in this wood paneled upper floor area and these people are hanging out on the more ground level a few floors below. He wants to know if he can trust them.


“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could do that for you.”


Honestly, at this point I am pretty sure I could in fact pull shit like this off. The question would be why.






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