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Writer's pictureThad McKraken

Egyptian Hieroglyph Death Mask Magick



7/29/2024 –


An image of this woman in what looks like some sort of African death mask, dressed in a nun style leather daddy outfit with an S & M whip, walking past this cascading image screen of Egyptian looking hieroglyphs. This might seem random but it’s actually an incredibly concise riff on something I was lead to contemplate in a dream study group.


I was talking (too much honestly) about my incredibly low opinion of a lot of the occult. Later we did a meditation session and all these images of these Egyptian looking gold metallic birds flooded my mind. It took me a second to put it together but it tracks.


In fact, what I later started contemplating quite hilariously is that the occult is supposedly the revival of Egyptian magick, and yet it’s filtered through a lens of rebelling against Christianity by being the bad guys of Christian fan fiction, and Egyptian magick had absolutely 100% nothing to do with any of that. This is all very very stupid. I love the African death mask imagery too because yup, that shit needs to die. Fuck, it's very much tied to white supremecy too, metaphors within metaphors.



In fact, in this next visionary situation I find myself in, I’m getting photos developed at the local drug store. I’m waiting for the woman to bring back the pictures that I’ve given her to develop before I’m like:


“Waaaaait a minute. Something seems very off here.” 


And then I realize. Oh yeah. No one gets pictures developed anymore. See how the second vision is related to the first one? Give it a sec.


Now another vision of these men in suits who are some sort of educators looking for students in the dark.


Then a dream where I’m back in the Invisible College. I’m sitting with a guy who lived up the street from me when I was a kid and he and my boss are like:


“Fuck it. We’re getting drunk.”


And they bust out these shiny cans of Coors Light. I’m kind of shocked because it’s morning. Like, wow, we’re just going to start drinking beers before noon? OK then. So we start nursing our beers and when I look around absolutely no one else is drinking. It seems weird but I remember that myself and this guy used to have fun saying the names of fast-food restaurants backwards.


“Gnikgregrub”


I say over to him while sipping my silver bullet. He laughs. It’s about at this point that I notice it’s 3pm. How the fuck did that happen? This question is never answered.


Later while meditating I’m looking at this white woman with floppy orange curly hair. She’s playing guitar and sitting on this odd orange and yellow mechanical contraption which promptly rockets her to the sky, almost by her crotch. Algorithms bro.


7/30/2024 –


Yet another vision of the me in a suit dude I summoned back in 2010 (I had to listen to that podcast about the shroud man). Here he’s standing in front of this large silver sphere that’s largely filled up with black mist, dulling out the gray. The sphere of course being the entirety of the human timestream. The black mist? A reminder that this is hell. The lower realms. The only point to this is to serve the purposes of the higher ones.


Later while meditating my consciousness is consumed with this energetic flow of what looks like fat or gristle with a faint light shining though it. This is obviously not the most pleasant of imagery and I decide to mold it, which I do by turning it into an adorable fawn pug. Now an image of a 1950’s looking woman in an old school looking diner bringing a white takeout bag to the counter with a smile on her face.


As I’m leaving this visionary state, I’m now shown a bunch of delicious grilled salmon burger patties with the perfect 3 lines of char on them. Yup. These human narratives are like food to the higher realms in a way. The awful way we treat animals is but a metaphor.


7/31/2024 –


I was working on a project before I went to bed and was then woken up not once but twice with notes on this project. And good ones. In fact, yeah, both times it sort of created a tailspin where I was now lost in contemplation and had a hard time getting back to sleep.


Because of that, not a whole ton on the visionary front but as I was getting back under at one point my mind state was consumed with this rather excellent old school cut up collage style art. Very reminiscent of Robert Pollard’s stuff but I mean, it’s a whole vibe that dates all the way back to shit like the dadaist movement. Cool thing to have cascade your headspace and almost geographically related to the thing I was contemplating.



Anyway, one dream that was mostly beyond human comprehension but what I do remember is that I’m sitting in a cylindrical metal object with another unidentified traveler.


“I’m going to miss you.”


I say to another unknown person right before the thing spins into hyper-speed, warping us to another location entirely. How a body would survive such cylindrical force? Not a clue.







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