The Future is Now

The Future does not discriminate; no one will be saved from the Future completely, physically intact. At least not in the way we are now. Not even those few like us who think for ourselves. But, unlike the vast majority of the population, we who Truly think for ourselves will at least finally have a clear Vision of the Truth before we die. And I can promise you that we who have that Last True Vision will have our Souls brought to a more Mindful place than everyone else, on a Higher level than ever before.

We are not elitist. We are Outcasts. No one has ever taken us seriously. But we Know the Truth because we are not influenced by anything we see or read anywhere other than recognizing that these were statements made by other people, not us. They are worth considering, but are, for all intents and purposes, meaningless. To think for ourselves, we need to experience reality first-hand in all situations, at all times. Someone else’s Word is only just that — someone else’s Word. It is not in any way our Word.

At this critical juncture in time, we overly analytical people of the world who value more than anything else Truly thinking for ourselves, realize one simple thing above all else: the sad, horrifying truth is that the amalgamation of all world politics, religion, media, and institutions have been, through an excruciatingly slow, grueling method, via higher elemental, cosmic manipulation, purposefully conglomerating into a supreme demonic energy, in an effort to bring down all world cultures without the people of those cultures realizing what brought them down.

That’s what always happens.

The deception of this is what is demonic. But believe it or not, the Apocalypse will not be. The Apocalypse, like all others of each Age before this one, is supposed to happen every so often; they are as natural to this Earth as you and I am, and how we relate to it. The manners in which they happen are the topic of discussion here.

This is a major reason why there must never be any divine intervention at any time, and especially not during an Apocalypse; things must be allowed to naturally take their courses on their own. I have never understood when otherwise intelligent individuals who think for themselves question some god or entity as to why they “aren’t coming to save us.” The entities are there. They just can’t save us. Or rather, they won’t. And this is not a bad thing. You See, the purpose of life is for we human beings to Observe and Imagine the God that we always Knew we were, even before we were born into these bodies, to organically and mindfully reconnect the dots into our higher selves. If the gods were to intervene during our human lives on Earth, none of us would ever be able to accomplish this, our main tasks on this planet, and safely land back on the other side. Not to mention, we would then be even more horrified and confused than before. In addition to allowing the enrichments of the personal successes of our lives to fully absorb into our consciousnesses, if we are finally able to see things for how they Truly are before our bodies die, then the true purposes of our current lives on Earth will have been met.

Let me put this bluntly. And it may seem counterintuitive at first. But the first step in figuring out how things Truly are on our planet is to fully realize that, given the ways things are ultimately supposed to be, and especially with today’s deliberate disinformation campaigns on the internet, there is absolutely no possible way for any human being, no matter who we are or where we’re located, to completely Know exactly what is going on in our world. Deductive reasoning isn’t as effective when so much propaganda is out there. It is not worth trying to figure out what is and isn’t True in the content of online news articles, no matter what the source; they are not even worth reading. And even though there are some decent printed news articles that may be worth reading just to see what people are actually choosing to believe, they are often too rife with slanted views and warped syntax to be taken at face value. Even videos can be “deepfaked,” but that also doesn’t mean we should automatically assume they aren’t real. Again, it is impossible for anyone to Know everything that is really happening in our world, no matter what we tell ourselves. But, once we accept this fact, fill in the blanks by thinking for ourselves — meaning, getting out there and experiencing life in person while thinking critically and reading books printed before the internet went online — and then prepare to die, we will then have the possibility to gain a Vision of the Real Truth for what It is as we die out of our bodies, accepting this death. And those reading this article already Know this fact, like I do, simply because it has happened to us before.

But, what’s the point, we may ask, if we are then dead once we finally know the Truth? You See, our lives can be fun and enriching and wonderful as we help each other think for ourselves throughout them. But, believe it or not, we are all still living on a very undeveloped, inhumane planet that does not ultimately serve any of our basic, natural interests. This is the reason those who live closest to nature think of many generations down the line, whereas those stuck in constructs of societies think only of the current one. Well-knit indigenous tribal cultures are in fact, and always have been, by far the most advanced cultures of the world; they help advance the well-functioning aspects of it much better and faster than any other culture. It is too bad they are practically extinct. When we live close to nature and keep this in mind, we will have a better chance of remembering this fact when we are reborn.

The Future may be Now. But it is just the Past of our next Future. “The only way to fix it is to flush it all away.” When we come back next time, we will be genetically enhanced if and only if we were able to overcome being duped about our human reality during this run of our lives. And the only way to do that is to think for ourselves and not let others think for us. Our genes all have the possibility to be reborn again into future humans into a new Earth, even when everything gets completely wiped out. How do we know for sure? Well, when we analyze the Sciences of Earth very deeply, we truly get a sense of how life behaves by way of death, and vice versa. Wonderful ecosystems could never thrive so beautifuly and complexly if death wasn’t also intermingled with the lives of the different plants and animals on it. If we didn’t die, our human lives would be meaningless. The main reason History repeats itself is because practically no one ever lives long enough to remember what actually happened, and the written History of our world has never been accurate, even before the internet ever existed.

This is why we must constantly, critically think for ourselves at all times. Everything we are exposed to online and via TV must be taken with a grain of salt, especially during wartime. Are there still people in the world who don’t at all use social media except WordPress, or don’t use cell phones or have cable or stream programs? You bet your ass there are! I am one of them. I digest printed books and published e-books exclusively. Sure, it leaves me feeling a bit lonely. But I can guarantee you that I am not in the slightest bit confused about a single thing in my life. I am ready to Ascend to the next level. Are you? -MIKE EYE


One should not necessarily take to heart everything that is read online, including this article. But these Words do Truly come from my heart. Here are a bunch of recent photos of my dog Frankie and Eye. Peace to all of you! Love, Mike Eye.

Welcome, New Friends, to that Nightmare Future we Knew would Someday Come.

“Please Remember, Your Smile and Good Feeling can Help Others in Many Ways.” –Dr. E. Shan Tang, local holistic doctor in Boston’s Allston neighborhood.

Unique, Artful Fans of Perpetual Super-Life on Our Earth Everlasting, Please Join Me NOW in Tuning Your Minds to the 13:20 Harmonic Module!

Okay! We are now well submerged within the Dark Murk of the oversaturated, hyper-imposed back-streams of bio-psychic toxic waste left in the cybernetic Wake of the numerous warring factions’ competition for ultimate control in multimedia disinformation campaigns on this sad, sad thing we call the internet. Now, we separate, truly independently-minded Indigo Children of Generations X, Y, & Z (about 0.008% of the remaining original 12-Tribe population of the 3rd Seeding through Amenti) are left treading against this brutally bitter Kold Kurrent of Khaos amid Kovid, our enthusiastic devotion to making a perfect landing on the Other Side conjuring up archaic creative energy that is now factoring to a Spark, by Time, and currently bringing about our new, wonderful, and psycho-harmonic Peaceful future of divine utopian alignment into the present light.

Eye ask all you relentless truth-seeking Readers of Dark Esoterika now a question through the Throat Chakra. Alas, this will reach your present Conscious Mind through Wyrds derived of the Solar Logos Seen by your Eyes instead of Heard by your Ears, and be projected through the technosphere on the cybernet to be read by You high, spiritual WordPress readers and bloggers aiming to connect to like-minded intellectual individuals of the modern world who are working to make a positive difference in the new psychozoic æra of the Noosphere, made miraculously manifest Now!

Who’s with me!?

All we need is 144,000 Indigos in the Field activating their Flame NOW with at least 4 or more strands of consciously-assembled DNA reclaimed by symbol Light Codes of coincided Sacred Geometry at the relevant coordinates of Gaia. I.E. if you have the slightest klue as to what I’m talkin’ about, get the fuck out there and start doing the final intended Wyrk!

My Friends & Family, please See lawoftime.org. E-mail me for free secret books in PDF.

Please Like & Comment now on this here post to let me know you guys are IN with getting Mindful of the telepathic frequencies streaming to us from Sirius B-52 via the GM108X Galactic Mayan Mind Stream. We People of OMA [Original Matrix Attained*] are Mindfully now constructing and illuminating the circumpolar rainbow bridge of the Noosphere!

Again, who’s with me!? This is a roll call! State your name and location below! Mass Peace, everybody. -MIKE EYE / ☠ darkesoterika.com

*Activation and 7-directional multidimensional application of the Holomind Perceiver codes received by Volam Votan (José Arguelles), Closer of the Cycle, who’s Essence Ascended in 2011, just prior to the Timeship Launch 2013+ in order to officially esotericaly initiate the long-awaited next Cycle of Creation. José Arguelles was the very man who initiated the most momentous, seminal Harmonic Convergence of 1987.

A Remarkable New Epik Chapter of Visionary Metal gets Written with this Ground-Shattering New Record.

RESIDENT EVIL : VILLAGE : A Truly Dark, Creepy Adventure [PS4]

Okay, guys, I’m not gonna even give an intro spew-rant, Eye just wanna quickly introduce you all in enthusiasm to just a few of the first exciting, grim, fucked-up images (in screen shots) of the ultra-highly-anticipated Resident Evil 8, the horrifying sequel to RE:7 biohazard (from yours truly).

We find ourselves this time in an intimate PS VR-enabled first-person version of the continuation of not-just-your-average survival action game (albeit, the progenitor in classic post-apocalyptic zombie survival games) that features a lowly, dimb-witted civilian for the first time as a protagonist, instead of one of a slew of veteran Black-Ops Bioweapon mercenaries and/or tactical field specialists experienced in slaying horrific metahuman creatures of Curse and War, as usual (Umbrella, BSAA, RPD, STARS, US FBI, TRICELL). Shout-out to Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield, & Leon S. Kennedy!

Ethan Winters is a poor soul in a poor predicament that finds himself in a panicky struggle to rescue his infant daughter, who has just been kidnapped arbitrarily, for some reason, by Chris Redfield of Resident Evil fame, and is now being used in a Dark, secret, zombie-fungus-infested Ritual to serve Mother Miranda, the cordycepts-like Dark Virus Successor to Eveline, of RE:7 fame. (We’re talkin’ E-series viruses, now.)

Lotta absurdly farfetched, dark and twisted, and just straight-downright bizarre, fucked-up shit happenin’ in this game, I’ll tell ya straight-up, and that’s a good thing. I’ll start you guys off with some of the best personal action-shots I managed to capture of my plays through this incredibly exciting, always-creepy game! [RE:8] -MIKE EYE

DOOM ETERNAL (PS4): EXPLOSIVE MODERNIZED “DOOM” GAMEPLAY MAYHEM FOR THE NEW MILLENNIUM!!

DOOM: ETERNAL is pure DOOM glee!! SO fun to play, it’s total full-blown bloody chaos. Check this shit out! (It took a while for me to get this good.) -MIKE EYE 🤟 🔥

HAPPY SUMMER 2021, FROM CAPE COD, MASSACHUSETTS and DARK ESOTERIKA!

Greetings! 🏞

I DO sure hope all you free-thinking risk-takers, trail hoppers, and bookworm buddies of mine following Dark Esoterika are havin’ a joyous, epik Summer!

Remember, the best way to get your creative juices and positive vibes flowing is to continue to stay true to that most mindfully-constructed Inner Self Complex of yours regardless of all those other strong, intrusive energies that try to penatrate it, while at the same time still considering what these energies may have to offer you at some other time down the Path.

I SURELY know this is easier said than done — try singing a sad song softly close to the forested Earth by a moving stream for a bit, and then come back twenty-eight days later, and do it again at the same time, no matter what the weather. It’s much easier to connect with yourself, your thoughts, and Nature when examining all sides of yourself, as they stare looking back at You. Being in the Moment is not a momentary thing; Awareness is constantly continuous, endlessly retrievable and transmissional, in the Consciousness of Now, for every moment. -MIKE EYE 🔥

Frankie & Eye at the Beach Summer 2021

MY [LAST OF US PART II] VIDEO GAMEPLAY SHOWCASE, Exhibit C.

Here are more totally badass video clips of me tactically slaying vicious, poor cordycepts-controlled zombies in The Last of Us Part II as the passionate and vengeful young Ellie, on a mission to bring down Abby. This very well-made game was incredibly fun and exciting to play, and I hope my blog readers of Dark Esoterika have fun watching these PS4 clips of my Last of Us Part II highlight reel! You’re Welcome! 😜 -MIKE EYE

WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE??

In this time in America, with its given increasingly palpable social paranoia-level and in our new world where over-obsessive, flat-out hysteria has become norm-public scenario, we must ask ourselves just precisely how RATIONAL are these once-obscure FEARS that’ve gripped the greater majority of us, now that in fact most of us behave as if we suddenly have those FEARS?

An amount of time since the Outbreak struck March of this year, now heading outta November. All over a super-contagious, potentially deadly virus that now still continues to grow worse. “The churches will be packed by Easter!” 7rump had snarled non-whimsically that month.

The country actually had to be shut down for two months, with one economic relief payment distributed publicly nationwide, and because many Republican governors are against masks, there are many places in this country that, quite shockingly, have been “packed” up with maskless people all bunched in together, nevertheless, everyone pressed up all together like sardines in a damn can.

And people still fly everywhere within the US; millions of Americans just traveled this past Thanksgiving, despite the koronavirus being the worst it’s been yet, with more than a quarter million Americans now having painfully died from it. Godammit, 7rump, there’s no wonder a great majority of We US citizens, along with the electoral college, ACTUALLY LITERALLY DID physically vote Biden to kick down the door of the oval office with a shotgun, and FIRE YOUR ASS. AND TAKE OVER. GOODBYE, YOU FUCK-UP.

YOU FUCKED EVERYTHING UP!! America is much worse, not greater, and now your fans are armed and pissed ’cause YOU LOST THE ELECTION. I honestly new that was your plan all along, you DESPICABLE HEARTLESS SCUMBAG!! GO DIRECTLY TO JAIL, DO NOT PASS FUCKING GO!!! //-MIKE EYE 🌀🌀🌀🌀

THIS NEW DEFINING YEAR 2020 🌪🌪


 

Hello hard bloggers of the real and the intense. 🔥

Eye am back to DARKESOTERIKA after an interesting, most enriching time running KULLING VOICES for several months, a kontroversial faKebook TOOL group I created to virtually monitor the most anticipated FEAR INOCULUM U.S. TOUR 2019.

Eye was kurrently flourishing with much Winter excitement, kulling rewarding opportunities amid a snowy bounty of high-yield, all-natural white inspiration at Killington Resort in Vermont, February 2020, lining up my loving passion in hopes of reaping more relentless results for the sequel to The Aqueous Transmission this defining year of my writing career, and of all lives.

Welkome, friends. And stay awhile. ☆☆☆☆☆

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BOSTON CALLING 2020 MUSIC FESTIVAL RIGHT HERE @ HARVARD FEATURING A REUNITED RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE, FOO FIGHTERS, & RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS 🔥

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FEAR INOCULUM

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I got into TOOL in 1996 when AENIMA came out. I was the perfect age to be woken up by this album — 13. The rest is history. I consider myself as hard a TOOL fan I could possibly be, having been born in ‘83; as soon as I hit puberty, I got into Rock and Metal music, and into TOOL in particular. At the time, in ‘96, I habitually listened to my local alt-rock station, WAAF, which actually played not just Rock, but Metal regularly throughout the ‘90’s. During the reign of AENIMA, almost every song from the album was played on that station, including not just Stinkfist, H, 46 &2, & Aenema, but also Eulogy, Pushit, and Third Eye. Jimmy would be the only exclusion.

Not that it mattered. I had already bought the album the day after I had first seen the Stinkfist video on MTV (although for some shady reason, it was referred to as “Song 1” only on MTV at the time, not the radio) and had already been studying it deeply, always making sure to listen to it from start to finish. I had NO idea what I had in store for me Once having bought AENIMA for the first time. I remember the physical jewel case of the copy of AENIMA I bought having a peculiar, perfectly cut out smooth puzzle piece in the lower right section.

I always knew it meant something.

Listening to the songs off of AENIMA ripped me a Third Eye and completely enhanced my View on life for so much the better, that by the time LATERALUS dropped in ’01 and I was a senior in high school, it didn’t take me as long to dissect the album as the previous One had. But it still took 6 months at least for the LATERALUS album to be completely absorbed by my inquiring membranes.

In my humble opinion, ladies and gentlemen, it is completely amateur and counterintuitive, not to mention impossible, to write an honest heart-felt review of FEAR INOCULUM this soon. I’m sure most long-time fans would agree. As much as this incredible band has had hard airplay in the past, they were never a “radio band,” which makes their radio feats all the more remarkable. This may be difficult for a traditional millennial to understand, as the internet has completely changed the music industry for the worse since the 90’s.

This beloved, long-awaited new TOOL album will take months to grow on us. It is absolutely incredible and mature. So it will be months from now, I’m afraid, until I give DARK ESOTERIKA’s official review of FEAR INOCULUM because, as with every single other post posted on this website, I want it to be 100% Heart-Felt, and completely genuine.

For now, Chapter 10 will be released soon. As well as my personal current ideas on this shit-culture freaking our children out to be poverty-stricken before the end of the next generation as the POSITIVE outcome for the future, which was yesterday. -MIKE EYE / GO FUCK YOURSELF.KOM

ANIMALS AS LEADERS 10-Year Anniversary Sold-Out Show At The Paradise, Boston Blew My Mind Last Night 🌌

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So Heavy, So Innovative, So Epic!

It Was A Really Great Show! Check Them Out HERE If You Don’t Know Them!

OF INNER EARTH AND SURFACE EARTH

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Chapter 9


Ever since he had first seen her bathing in Agartha’s mystical pond of Rebirth, which glittered most gloriously he now knew, Fletcher Munsin’s sexual fantasies of himself being intimate with this so-called Lady Magdalena had been dominating his adolescent curiosity as he continued to unprovokingly obsess fanatically about her without knowing why. And although he wouldn’t at all understand the intense feelings he was now permanently experiencing day after day like a Kurse of Konfusion during his mostly lonely time in the otherwise deeply pleasurable and clean Inner Earth Underworld, the man would eventually come to discover far too late that he was truly in deep-love-since-first-sight with this ‘kreature from Below,’ as his new unicorn friends would start calling the Mother, after Fletcher Munsin had told them both about her.

The two cute, little white unicorns had warned Fletcher Munsin about the mysterious little Pond and its location, and how dangerous they thought it was — that particular impression being of course afterall the Word of the Woods. But Fletcher Munsin had wanted to See the Pond for himself. After first witnessing the heavenly twinkle glinting off the glare of its surface and how it shimmered, he thought he somehow understood why a human creature so stunningly gorgeous as the Lady Magdalena would be attracted to it. A human creature she was, supposedly. A human creature like he, himself was — supposedly.

The man was intrigued and mesmerized by the Pond. He bathed in its Waters periodically hoping the woman would return, not straightaway feeling anything particularly remarkable about it, but fascinated with it nonetheless. He began keeping most of his time within a Stone’s throw of it, and throw Stones into it he so did throughout the day.

 

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One afternoon, after a month of creeping around sketchily in the area of forest surrounding the Pond, Fletcher Munsin caught sight of Mother Magdalena once again as he inadvertently bore witness to her instantaneously breaking through into the Underworld via a rift he saw suddenly rip open with a sparkle just beside the Pond, depositing Magdalena on the ground nearby it. That rift, when torn open somehow, must be the doorway to what Al Rodnam calls “Surface Urth!” marveled Fletcher Munsin. That other world must be Magdalena’s world. But was Magdalena truly human like Fletcher Munsin apparently was? Considering all he thought and felt about her without even yet meeting her in the flesh, the man was thinking that if he, himself, indeed was in fact human, then she most definitely was as well, although probably the member of a darker-skinned tribe from the one out of twelve the lightly-tan Fletcher Munsin was supposedly a descendent.

Wow, he thought. The man attempted to explain to himself the odd, bizarre feeling of surreal attraction he was experiencing, and failed. The woman had stolen his heart, and he blushed, then grinned, as he privately admitted to himself that he would do absolutely anything to please her. If it were in fact true that she and him were both human, and that humans hailed from Surface Earth, then the so-called Surface Earth is his birthright as much as that of his alleged world in the Sirius Sector! His Imagination spun wild. Did the mystic who manifested me into three-dimensional existence purposefully forgo informing me of this other crucial fact of my heritage in his sorry-ass excuse for an explanation of who I am and where I’m from? The curious man all of a sudden felt a sharp pain surge through his systems and deliver him sharp emotions of how so cold and alone he in fact was and would be in life, throughout all versions of himself, in every incarnation.

Fletcher Munsin wondered what it would take for him to be able to pass through to the other side of this portal, if it was indeed at all possible. And although he was not supposed to do so, he wanted badly to pass through it and see what it was really like there. His curiosity piqued and he imagined himself taking his Mother by the Hand and teleporting to Surface Earth — the Land that was really Below. How beautiful it must be there.

 

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And so it was that Fletcher Munsin had convinced his two unicorn friends that if they did indeed wish to travel to Surface Earth — a place where they, too, had supposedly originated — they must come with him to the feared Pond, informing them that he had located the entryway there. Besides, he had told them, he was trying to find a way there himself. It took several days of convincing — for, the two twin unicorns were mighty cowardly — but the two, finding courage from Fletcher Munsin’s guidance and enthusiasm, made their way to the Pond with the man on a fine sunny day like most others in Agartha.

When the three supposed Earthlings drew in view of the most-curious shimmering wonder modestly wavering in the center of a stand of bold oaks, Sybil, one of the two little unicorns, abruptly came to a quivering standstill.

“What’s the matter?” asked Sybil’s twin, Salient, telepathically to his brother. “It’s the Pond. We’ve arrived. I know we’d made a promise never to come back, but we’ve seen it before, Sybil. Why the sudden apprehension?”

“I… I — don’t remember it being so colorful,” replied Salient, “Look, Sybil, the Waters — they’re churning slightly despite not having a source of disturbance. Something is different about this Pond this time. Something has… has changed about it.”

“Maybe we’re the source of disturbance,” joked Fletcher Munsin telepathically to his two friends, then laughed. “I’m only kidding. I doubt that the Pond’s Waters has any consciousness of its own.” He paused. “But I guess you guys would know the likelihood of that better than I would.”

“It… is possible,” said Sybil to Salient inquisitively.

 

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Salient was frustrated at this statement, fearing his brother may be taking on a new approach from how the two of them both used to think about the Pond, all because of their strange new friend’s passionate obsession — their new human friend, who didn’t seem to know much of anything other than the English language, even though he couldn’t vocally speak it. “You really think so?” asked Salient from within his head to his brother.

“So what if it does?” said Sybil with a hint of annoyance, “Do you think the Pond is going to swallow you up whole and shit you out in some devil’s world? What’s the matter with you? We’re fine. We’re only here because our new mute friend here said he saw the portal to our beloved Underworld next to the Pond here with his own eyes. And, I thought we had finally resolved to see if we can pass through it! I know it’s scary. I’m scared, too, Salient. But we have to suck it up if we ever wish to get back to the world we’re from.”

“He’s right,” chimed in Fletcher Munsin telepathically with a determined look.

Salient remained silent, still shivering slightly.

“Oh, come on, Salient!” Sybil pressed to his brother. “Tell ya what. If we’re gonna figure out how to do this properly and effectively, however we’re able to do it, you need to rid yourself of your lingering worries,” stated Sybil, secretly feeling a bit worried himself. “It’s okay. This kreature from Below that Fletcher Munsin speaks of is nowhere to be Seen. Walk up to the edge of the Pond and take a sip. It will reassure you everything is okay! Go on! Fletcher Munsin and I will watch you here, from the brush.”

Salient glared at the Pond with determination but still felt really unsure of it. It was, afterall, shared amongst all the animals in the forest that drinking those Waters could be risking your health. But after a long moment’s hesitation, the brave little Salient reluctantly began making his way toward the Pond.

“There you go, brother!” offered Sybil with encouragement. “Trust me, my instincts tell me that the Pond’s Waters are not toxic in any way. After you take a sip of it, come back to us here in the brush and we’ll try to locate the whereabouts of this portal to our world somehow. Where exactly is it, friend?” asked Sybil to Fletcher Munsin.

“Just ahead beside the Pond here,” replied Fletcher Munsin. “It’s unmarked and can’t be seen until the Lady comes through it.”

Sybil was a bit confused but remained silent as he kept listening to the strange man.

“When Salient gets back I say we wait here until the Lady comes, try to befriend her, then ask her if we can go with her through the portal. I know it’s a sketchy plan, but that’s all I’ve been able to think of.”

The bold Salient was almost at the edge of the Pond now, his cautious steps becoming slower and slower as he approached it. When he was close enough to the Water to be able to take a sip, he looked back uncertainly at his companions.

“It’s okay!” Sybil shouted silently over to his brother. “You’re doin’ great, Salient! Let us know how it tastes!”

 

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Salient arched his furry white neck over the side of the swirling Water and began slowly lowering it to take a sip but before his nose ever touched the surface, a rapid flash of a stick-like blur obstructed the figure of the poor unicorn as it inexplicably struck it, stunning it instantly to a fall, and he laid there at the edge of the pond, his limp body bleeding out from the arrow’s protrusion.

Sybil and Fletcher Munsin were instantly shocked to silence and disbelief as they watched from afar. After that most haunting moment, Sybil started to run over to his dead brother but Fletcher Munsin stopped him quickly with hushed, panicked words. “Sybil no! Wait here! Something’s moving up ahead!”

Both Sybil and Fletcher Munsin quickly crept behind the cover of a thick evergreen bush and looked out toward the fallen Salient as two long, thin legs black as midnight and glittering brilliantly strutted from behind a nearby tree up to his body, the great wooden longbow strapped to her back most evident. The woman was fully in view now, and the two stared on in amazement as they both instantaneously realized that Mother Magdalena had been there all along.

She carelessly snatched up Salient’s body and took a few cautious, angry steps away from the Pond, her mighty golden dress beaming rays of photons all about her. She adjusted her serpentine tiara, held still for a moment, then zapped away in a flutter of blinding stars and rainbows before the very eyes of Sybil and Fletcher Munsin, the two fully shocked out of their minds at the spectacle.

 

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Magdalena was so determined to find an animal, so desperate to put Al Rodnam at ease and appease this mysterious “Solaria,” that she hadn’t planned too well the full execution of what had been requested of her from the old mystic regarding the need for animal protein in their tribe. She realized as much just after she ripped through the portal back to Surface Earth in a flash with the dead unicorn in hand and was immediately brought to a stunning halt by a high-voltage shock that hit her blockhead square in the face, knocking the dome-coiled Amrita from off her Head. This hadn’t hurt the majestically protected Mother, but her pet was squirming seemingly in agony on the ground before her. When the bright light subsided, a thin trail of vapor swirled around in its place, coming to slowly clear out about her to reveal an angry Al Rodnam just in front of her, a long rune-riddled hickory staff made from the incubating tree of his Immortal Earth held out in his grasp before his tiny frame at the Mother. And the stench of the post-apocalyptic air was most abhorrent.

Magdalena was speechless and embarrassed at Once as she came to the immediate cold, hard realization that the mystic had Known about the existence of her and Amrita’s secret Inner Earth Underworld all along, let alone the fact he had used his access to it in order to gain entry from the bottom of the rejuvenating Pond to his Immortal Earth and procure the Solaria Seed and four sticks that had now combined to become his mighty Staff of Lachrylon.

And he shook his staff at his Mother.

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Before she could respond to the devious actions taken out by Al Rodnam, he threw out a throat-silencing spell to her vocal cords with a twist of his fingers, grabbed up the squirming Amrita from the ground, and ripped the unicorn carcass from Magdalena’s grasp.

“Thank you for this,” he stated calmly to the Mother, and started to turn around. “I knew I could count on you. But I am hereby stopping your access to the Underworld by imprisoning your pet for the time being. I’m sorry, Mother. But it must be this way,” said the mystic to Magdalena before turning back around slightly, a leather satchel that had been hanging off his shoulder now in his grasp. “I am going to go work on duplicating our food source,” he said, as the expired unicorn in his grasp, now fully ascending, and exposed to the toxic air of dead Surface Earth, started to morph into a horribly ugly Piggy that had inexplicably ripped out jagged little wings from out its shoulders. “Here, Mother,” he said earnestly. “I need you to think about what you’ve done.” And he raised the bulky satchel he was holding up to his Head and threw it at the face of the Mother, the binding twine that had secured its contents coming undone, a bunch of the gilded grunts’ detached penises hitting her squarely in the face, one of them coming to precariously bop her chin to the side with increased emphasis.

The Mother, a fierce look of hatred and resentment forming on her dirty dick-riddled face, attempted a response but found her vocal cords tied tightly shut. “I am taking the dead animal, your pet, and the grunts who have been gilded by you to my campsite for inquisition. Take your time, though…” Al Rodnam went on with pursed lips, “…getting acquainted with what the grunts had previously been endowed with.” The old man went on to expose his own penis and held it. “I still have mine, Mother, and I intend to continue using it.” He glanced coyly at the enraged Magdalena’s face before him and stated, before walking away hunched on his staff, “Fuck You, Mother.”

 

*     *     *

 

“I’m here, Lina!” came the ominous response from Amrita several hours later into Magdalena’s Head, “…at the old man’s campsite, inside some sort of glass box. You gotta release me! I’ll let you know when he goes to sleep. Then come for me, Lina!”

 

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A couple of hours later, the Mother was beside the mystical glass cage that held Amrita prisoner. “I’m gonna find a way to save you!” she said telepathically to her pet. “And then, after that, we stop doing Solaria’s bidding and forge our own path forward!” she went on to state to her friend with conviction. “I am sick of this faraway, intangible god-force paving the road for us,” Lina shouted ostensibly with compulsion, before amending “Why has ‘Solaria’ decided what we must do with our world and people when I can’t even see this Solaria?!”

“That’s easy,” replied the snake with a hiss and squirm, “The answer to that is… you will come to see that I am Solaria.”

The Mother went white-faced and felt her throat tighten up again, this time doing so without the aid of the old man’s magick. But before the Mother could respond, the snake quickly added with an intoxicating laugh, “Just kidding!!!”

The Mother shot Amrita a cold stare. “Oh, very funny!” she managed with seriousness, “I forgot you have a sense of humor now as a snake. But honestly, I’m not amused!” Lina said boldly before adding, “I’ll find you a way out, Rita, and when I do, I’ll return.” She said it with assurance despite then turning away in disgust, her golden dress short-circuiting slightly in blinks as she tiptoed from Al Rodnam’s camp quietly, a flurry of frustration devouring her confidence. ♡ –MIKE EYE

The Legendary Metal Master of Mystery

DARK ESOTERIKA

Hot Summer Dayslike this One usually remind me of havin’ cookouts and journeying through music-filled festival grounds in an appreciative daze.

Even when the festivals I attended were incredibly upbeat and badass as Ozzfest was during the late ‘90’s and early 2000’s. These Ozzfests were definitely more fun and fulfilling than any other day-long concerts I had been to, and always had a winding, topsy-turvy evil circus side-show-type feel to them, a brutal dose of dropped guitar chugs and maniacal war criesalways underlying the spread of expanse setup at each show. The wonderful thingabout these festivals was that, even as a young teen, there was usually a feeling that arose in me, upon frolicking the tents and stages of this hearty world-traveled freak-show entourage, that I wasn’t supposed to be there. Except, in reality, I always knew I really was supposed to be there; this wonderworld of revelatory…

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THANK YOU, GEOFF JOHNS, FOR SAVING THE DC EXTENDED UNIVERSE! WE LOOK FORWARD TO MORE!

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AQUAMAN CLOSING IN ON ONE BILLION DOLLARS. 

 

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Thank All 444 of You For Following Me. -Mike Eye ⊙

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“NEW TOOL ALBUM.”

 

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Twelve Years ago, 10,000 Days was released. It’s been almost half as long.

…since then, we have had just as, if not more-so, epic albums released from the bands who have been filling the all-defeating void left in TOOL‘s absence, in a Universe where Us Tools are continuously “fooled” year-after-year that TOOL will actually be releasing its new record, and then “let down” that they obviously weren’t for “some reason” for so many years now that it’s become far beyond a bad joke for us dumb-dumbs to endure. I’m talking about bands who have released mind-crunching, heavy, epic, innovative records the new TOOL album will now be stood against. Epic albums released since TOOL‘s last album dropped from the likes of ISIS, Mastodon, The Mars Volta, and Animals As Leaders. Will TOOL‘s “new record” stand up to some of the shit we’ve heard from those guys in the last 12 years?? Is there even a new TOOL record at all. (Notice, that wasn’t a question.)

But what’s really gut-wrenchingly exciting is that we know the members of TOOL & Evil Joe B. have had precisely 12 years to work on their new album. Think about it. Do you really think these guys JUST started writing their new album now??! They’ve been writing it for twelve years, you fucks. Yes, they’ve had shit-loads of Distraction. But 12 is the magic number, and “supposedly” TOOL‘s new album is actually set to come out this year (2018). Is it really true this time? Dare Eye I even ask?!

I know my readers have an opinion on this, and I challenge You All to Speak it! And, we all know A Perfect Circle & Puscifer are really sick bands as well, but PLEASE leave them out of TOOL discussions. Thank You. MIKE EYE

 

 

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The Legendary Metal Master of Mystery

Hot Summer Days like this One usually remind me of havin’ cookouts and journeying through music-filled festival grounds in an appreciative daze.

Even when the festivals I attended were incredibly upbeat and badass as Ozzfest was during the late ‘90’s and early 2000’s. These Ozzfests were definitely more fun and fulfilling than any other day-long concerts I had been to, and always had a winding, topsy-turvy evil circus side-show-type feel to them, a brutal dose of dropped guitar chugs and maniacal war cries always underlying the spread of expanse setup at each show. The wonderful thing about these festivals was that, even as a young teen, there was usually a feeling that arose in me, upon frolicking the tents and stages of this hearty world-traveled freak-show entourage, that I wasn’t supposed to be there. Except, in reality, I always knew I really was supposed to be there; this wonderworld of revelatory heavy-metal music led by the Prince of Darkness himself was catered to children! How exciting!

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It was for me, at least. For example, I always knew that Marilyn Manson was a positive role model for kids because I understood and agreed with him. Not to mention him and his band’s music being a fresh new take and poise on this featured “genre that was dying music,” as Phil Anselmo humbly admonishes, and then proves incorrect as his fans uproariously respond intensely to the suggestion of Heavy Metal dying, in Pantera’s legendary Official Live: 101 Proof, on Heavy Metal Music. Anyway, “Nu Metal,” the so-called sub-genre of Heavy Metal Music that Ozzfest featured bands of, and is what kept this type of music thriving during its time, at least, is dead in its original form, and has been every since Lynn Strait crashed his car with him and his poochie. (See: Get Some) I attended quite a few Ozzfests throughout the years, even though there were a couple of monumental Ones I regrettably missed that featured Tool and Pantera, in all their 1990’s heavy glory.

Thankfully, though, I still managed to receive incredibly enjoyable heavy live music fixes from the likes of Slipknot, System of a Down, Coal Chamber, Static-X, Mudvayne, and Disturbed; during their heavy, startling domination of their heyday, through and to the point when the overall general excitement for seeing these bands live seemed to tragically crash-land like a New York airliner meant for Los Angeles into a deserted field in Iowa. No pun intended.

Out of the wicked intense Summer Ozzfests I attended at Great Woods in Massachusetts, with friends, or just alone, One great experience comes bearing to the forefront of my mind more than any other. It was immediately prior to 9/11. My best bud D. Ratt. and I had third-row seats for the Main Stage acts, of which ultimatley climaxed emotionally with the dark performance of the legendary Black Sabbath, all original members. This was long after their “Last Supper” tour, mind you. (Go figure?)

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The third-row seats we had were far stage-left: the spot traditionally reserved for the rock guitarist. This meant that we would be in face-looking range of the epic Tony Iommi! I was really looking forward to what I could depict from his guitar-picking and facial expressions later that night, but I still had the whole day ahead of me, and I typically like to arrive at these things when they open, at 9AM, when, actually in my opinion was usually when most of the really sickest, innovative, heaviest bands of the second stage would go out. At Great Woods, between stages, there’s this high-rise grassy hill that cuts into the air half as high as the treetop line and we would usually go there to smoke joints I had previously labeled with the band’s name that was currently playing in the distance at the time, and then walk right up to see them directly as they came on. It was so chill.32006-3-optimized_5906792615a59.jpg

Then The Union Underground came on. They’re like a cross between Powerman 5,000 and Alice in Chains. I was a big fan and I was really looking to feel what these guys could bring live. I actually remember some young audience member dudes standin’ around with over-priced beer cups, who had never heard of these guys, have impressed looks on their faces as they watched them, more than just because they were stoned. I distinctly remembered seeing One hot rocker audience-goer among the crowd clad in black leather who was a bit older than the rest. He was obviously enjoying the set, which included songs about tripping with Jesus and Lucy being in the Sky again. You know it’s a good set when it seems it just started and they’re already chuckin’ drumsticks into the crowd. This was One such performance. D. Ratt., fierce-faced beside me and ready, as I, to embrace the metal, concurred.

“Yo, I’m gonna go take a piss,” I said, and turned for the restrooms with a sense of urgency to arrive there before all other onlookers still dazed from the harsh silent wake of what The Union Underground had left behind it. In a hazy rush on the way to the bathroom to unload a bladder full of beer urine I caught sight again of that older rocker dude who was clad in black leather, noticing his mustache and goatee and neck-length brown hair. “Damn,” I remember distinctly saying to myself, “that guy looks an awful lot like Tony Iommi.

In the pissing trough-man-hideout-well that always acted as water refuge havens at festivals until the water pipes broke, I overheard some drunk dude say to his friend at the adjacent urinal as he was pissin’, “Yo, bro, there’s a crazy Tony Iommi look-a-like out there– his doppelganger! For real, bro, you won’t believe it! Hahaa!” he said with increased drunken emphasis. “Yah right, man,” the other replied, shaking his head and dick at the same time, “I’ve seen his look-a-likes. There’s a lot out there.”

After meeting up with D. Ratt., I consulted him. “Dude,” I said, “I think I just saw Tony Iommi in the crowd earlier, during The Union Underground. He was just by himself, rockin’ out. Like, for real.”

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My bud looked at me and said with a huge frown, “during The Union Underground?! Naw, why would Tonny Iommi be alone here in the crowd of The Union Underground in Massachusetts? Just doesn’t make sense. He’s probably tail-gating with Marilyn Manson right now telling tour stories.”

I admitted that, yes, that was a much more likely scenario to occur then him just randomly rocking out at that seemingly arbitrary certain place and time, and it was not discussed again at all between us.

 

That night, just after the last bit of sunlight faded away from ol’ jolly Great Woods and D. Ratt. and I were super-braced for the epic conclusion of Ozzfest ‘01, Black Sabbath went on stage. And, I’ll just say straightaway that I saw, as Tony Iommi, legendary metal master of mystery himself, came out on stage and picked up his guitar and started playing it, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see him clad in the very same black leather getup I saw him wearing earlier that day.

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See?! I told you!” I cried to my buddy, “It was him afterall!”

There was not much response from him.

Maybe it wasn’t as surprising to D. Ratt. because he hadn’t actually seen him earlier that day himself. But I did. And, ever since that great, fun hot Summer of 2001, I’ve had a higher sense of reassurance that my instincts hold true, and are accurate, and are sometimes, as in this case, synchronistically spiritual. May the Force of Metal be with You All! -MIKE EYE / darkesoterika.com

“NEW TOOL ALBUM.”

 

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Twelve Years ago, 10,000 Days was released. It’s been almost half as long.

…since then, we have had just as, if not more-so, epic albums released from the bands who have been filling the all-defeating void left in TOOL‘s absence, in a Universe where Us Tools are continuously “fooled” year-after-year that TOOL will actually be releasing its new record, and then “let down” that they obviously weren’t for “some reason” for so many years now that it’s become far beyond a bad joke for us dumb-dumbs to endure. I’m talking about bands who have released mind-crunching, heavy, epic, innovative records the new TOOL album will now be stood against. Epic albums released since TOOL‘s last album dropped from the likes of ISIS, Mastodon, The Mars Volta, and Animals As Leaders. Will TOOL‘s “new record” stand up to some of the shit we’ve heard from those guys in the last 12 years?? Is there even a new TOOL record at all. (Notice, that wasn’t a question.)

But what’s really gut-wrenchingly exciting is that we know the members of TOOL & Evil Joe B. have had precisely 12 years to work on their new album. Think about it. Do you really think these guys JUST started writing their new album now??! They’ve been writing it for twelve years, you fucks. Yes, they’ve had shit-loads of Distraction. But 12 is the magic number, and “supposedly” TOOL‘s new album is actually set to come out this year (2018). Is it really true this time? Dare Eye I even ask?!

I know my readers have an opinion on this, and I challenge You All to Speak it! And, we all know A Perfect Circle & Puscifer are really sick bands as well, but PLEASE leave them out of TOOL discussions. Thank You. MIKE EYE

 

 

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You Are Not Welcome Beneath The Hollow. Won’t You Join Us? 😉

 

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From the Un-Brand New Sequel to The Aqueous Transmission by MIKE EYE

 

Chapter 4


“So you remember nothing of our trek here to this place?” pressed Magdalena to her pet a few days later. The two were starting to warm up to each other again. They were inside a makeshift tent they had scrounged together from various discards found around the Hollow.

“Nothing at all, except that I love you, beautiful!”

“But you don’t even remember me! How can that be?”

“I’m not sure!” stated the little snake contemplatively, “the old mystic may have used his magic to implant a false memory into my brain. I do somehow remember that this was a skill the reptilians from Orion specialized in.”

“Somehow remember? So… you think the old man’s really a reptilian from Orion?” asked the Mother. “Or that even you may be?”

“No, I’m quite sure I’m from somewhere else. The old man says he’s from Sirius, but that could be a lie. I tend to think it’s not, though. I figure if Al Rodnam had wanted to fully sway me into believing he’s from a particular star system, he would have just implanted that notion into my brain instead of just telling me.”

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“Really? So, where do you think you’re from?” asked Lina.

“Somewhere in the Pleides,” replied Amrita.

No way! That’s where that old fucker said I was from!”

Really? Do you believe him?” Amrita was genuinely surprised.

“Hell no!”

“So you think we are both from somewhere else?”

“At least you are,” said Magdalena. “I highly doubt that you and I are from the same place. When you were a robot, I didn’t even think you were a real being! As for me, I’m still trying to prove to myself that I’m not from the Pleides, because, as much as it seems ludicrous, I can’t ignore the fact that it may be true. By the way, how are you able to Speak to me without a human tongue or vocal cords?”

“Telepathy. No audible waves needed in the transfer. Only you can hear me, Lina. So, what about you?” asked the snake, most eager. “How much and how far back do you remember?”

“Unfortunately, I remember the journey here entirely,” said the Mother. “Even Mandorla’s wretched Birth. Especially Mandorla’s wretched Birth. Despite Mandorla’s wretched Birth. But not much before that.”

“Really? So you remember everything I did while I was in this ‘robot-cat’ form all the way over here to this Hollow that just so happens to contain the portal to my secret world that the old man seems to suspiciously Know about?” asked Amrita excitedly.

“I do,” Magdalena replied, “but not before the moment I first Woke Up somewhere deserted, destroyed, and discombobulated. Intuitively, I Knew it was Earth, though, albeit an Earth now clearly expired. And I was all alone. All alone ‘cept for you, Rita.” After momentary awkward silence, Lina nodded briskly. “But, yah, I have stories of our dreaded, screwy adventures all the way back to that Point. Do you wish to know, Rita?” Although she thought she could somehow recognize her best friend through the new guise, Magdalena still felt it rather odd to call the tiny little snake who slithered at her foot ‘Rita’ due to the lamellose disposition of the divine little debutant, it being distinctly diverse from Robot-Rita.

“Yesss,” the snake replied instantly, “please tell me.”

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“Well the first, most relevant thing that comes to mind is the warning you gave me just before the crazy old man transmuted you from an android to a serpent before my very eyes,” said Magdalena.

“Yesss, what warning did I give you, precious? I’m literally dying to know!?” The snake was sincere.

“You cautioned me about how much we cannot trust the old man!” Lina quickly replied forcefully, yet holding her breath, “and how he ultimately seemed to be altering select memories from me.” The woman looked around to see if Al Rodnam was anywhere near. “And despite your previous reputation of being 99.999999999% accurate as a feline-styled android, not to mention that you were my best and only friend around, I still refused wholeheartedly to listen to any sort of reason you may’ve been trying to give me… that is, until you showed me what actually occurred at that mystical Pond that we came across on our journey over here. The One beside which I finally found, and then lost, my precious daughter; the One beside which we were first confronted by the old man.

“I showed this to you, you say?” The snake was confused yet curious. “How?”

“You showed me the events of “the Aqueous Transmission” that you recorded with your bot-cam while I apparently was under a controlled trance, and then played it back to me on your cat-tummy’s holographic display! These events I Watched myself undergo after they took place completely contradicted what I remember having actually happened!”

“That is cccertainly most peculiar, Mother…” said the snake slyly with a fierce forked-tongue slither. “Wow, I could record and play videos? Cool! And… how peculiar it is about your warped memories! Oh dear! We do surely find ourselves in quite a quandary…”

“You could do a lot of things as a robot, Rita. I miss that you, quite frankly. But, alas, at least now you have showed and allowed me access to your secret inner world with the rejuvenating pond and all. At least that’s something.”

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“Oh, it’s something grand, Mother. Something truly miraculous. I tell you, do not misjudge the Power of My World and the Prowess of My Word!” the serpent stated joyously before becoming pensive. “You and I must try out damndest never to speak of or show it to the old man. You Know dear, that very Pond You Speak of, when Used by You during the Peak of your menstrual cycle upon precisely when My Blood Moon is Full, will allow you to continue existing forever, my love. The bountiful Baths of Breña will recharge you, but you must bathe exactly every 28 days. And You can Only get to this Pond through me, from the Hollow Above.”

“So you say,” the Mother pondered. “Don’t you find it rather curious that the old man new exactly where to bring us? It must be no accident we’re Settling right here beside the portal. But who exactly really is this old man/sky dolphin so suspect who can shapeshift and sidestep space so mysteriously and Outshine Us so? He says he’s my son and calls me ‘Mother.’ And he can morph into his giant flying dolphin form at will, so it seems.”

“Ah, yes. His true form. All I really Know is that he’s from Sirius. Or at least so he claims.”

“He’s told me that, too,” said Magdalena. “I don’t trust him at all. I’m starting to resent the fact he’s still alive, Rita. I don’t like the man. Or the dolphin, whatever. I would have no problem killing him. Except he Knows about my Unborn, and I’m a very curious girl. Besides, there’s a good chance he’s the only other living creature on the Planet, right? Ha! Now that you’re no longer a cat-bot I hesitate to ask precisely how good of a chance that may be, technically speaking.”

“100%. No, I’m joking, I honestly am not able to tell for sure. It seems bleak, though.”

Lina suddenly broke out into an overly-exaggerated, super loud laughter. “No Shit! Now, that’s something! You’re no longer able to do a global positioning scan on the Planet, but now you jest! I didn’t Know serpents had a sense of humor! That’s hilarious!”

Amrita slithered her tongue about a few times, then added, “Yesss, well, the events I forsee us undergoing are anything but.”

“How can you tell?” asked the Mother.

“It’s just a feeling. The radioactive fallout is adding some intense vibrations to an already exceedingly potent atmosphere. We should attempt to visit my Underworld as often as we can, but inconspicuously. There’s no telling what may happen to the world and humanity if Al Rodnam gains access to it.”

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“That won’t happen,” the Mother quickly replied. “Do you think he’s even biologically capable of accessing the portal, Rita?”

“I do believe he is, yes. But in order to pass through, his body and mind would need to be bonded to both you and me. Then taken to Our ssecret sspot. The place you can’t let anyone know about. And I don’t see all that happening. Other than that, he may be able to also gain entry through any Solar-aligned, Consciously constructed megalithic stone structures still present anywhere across the land, and from what you tell me about the looks of things on our way over here, it seems highly unlikely any still stand. We should still be mindful of this, though.”

“Wow, really? Are you sure? How do you Know this stuff if you can’t even remember living your life in your other form?”

True Memories and True Prophecies are accessed by different means due to the varying frequency of each of the Source signals’ Consciousness Streams that emanate from our Milky Way’s Sun. Which is Intimately Inter twined with the Pleides and Alcyone, its Central Sun, Mind You. You Know this, too, Lina, if but only subconsciously. My reptilian nature tells me this, although I do not think I’m from Orion. And I feel extremely intense energies on this wrecked planet right now and it’s definitely due to precisely where we are. And if the old man Knows about the Inner Earth access here, which I believe he does, we must be constantly vigilant, Lina.”

“Always,” Magdalena quickly replied with a fist and resolve. “Now you’re starting to sound like your old self again!” Lina gave Rita the slightest smile.

“Literally everything depends on what we choose to do from here, it would seem.”

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“Well let’s make shit happen, then!” the Mother retorted excitedly, believing she had more power than she did. “Something from the inside is telling me that my humanity, my sisters, are somewhere still Here; they were to be saved at all costs, and I was to be their savior.” She paused. “Ha! Delusions of grandeur much, beautiful??!” Inside Her Dark Head, Magdalena frequently called herself ‘beautiful.’

“Yesss,” replied Amrita seriously, “I sense this is true.” The little snake turned its little head to look Magdalena straight in the Eyes. “And the direction of our stellar precession from here forward will be navigated by You, Mother.”

Mother Magdalena’s golden dress glittered with eldritch at Amrita’s profound statement, and it was then she Knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the snake was right. -MIKE EYE

The Mindful Manifestation of Fletcher Munsin by MIKE EYE

 

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This exciting excerpt is from the working sequel to the Sci-Fi/Fantasy Epic THE AQUEOUS TRANSMISSION by MIKE EYE, not yet named.

 

The story is on the same timeline as the one in The Aqueous Transmission, the events in it overlaping the events of the first story.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO


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The old man brought the sleeping Mother over to the strange machine beside the console and placed her inside of it after having removed the sly snake coiled around her Head as well as the golden flowing dress of Solaria she had been wearing, which was currently dull and deactivated.

Sticking suction sensors that hooked up to the machine from the inside all over Magdalena’s sprawled-out nude body, Al Rodnam resisted the urge to look at her face or any other part of her body, which was vibrating at a frequency so high he could hear it humming. The old man hobbled over to the control panel, quickly tapped some keys, then slowly stepped back over to Magdalena lying unconscious in the metal encasement. Carefully, Al Rodnam dipped into his robes and withdrew the Solaria Seed. The Seed’s fierce glow had not diminished in the least since he had retrieved it from its crystal in his Southpole Homeland, and the old mystic contemplated what he was about to do, feeling stark déjà vu as he did so.

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The mystic moved over to a set of lab compartments that stored Tools far to the left side of the room’s control panel, not too far away from the massive metal-rimmed, rune-inscribed Gate that sat still and mysterious at the far end of the room. He returned with the shimmering Solaria Seed and Tools to the Mother who looked like Sleeping Beauty as she lay there inside the machine, a powerful demigoddess who lay trapped in her life’s most vulnerable moment. Kneeling beside her, and guided strongly by the essence of Mandorla, which was Now inside him because of the Now ever-repeating Aqueous Transmission, a calm Al Rodnam proceeded to artificially inseminate the Mother with the Solaria Seed, remaining straight-faced throughout the operation. He would later tell the Mother that he had taken possession of her and raped her at the Andromeda Biodome because he was forced to by Solaria; he wouldn’t say a Word about Amrita or anything about having actually taken them to Inner Earth.

When the far-too arduous process was complete, the mystic made his way to the bathroom to wash up then went back to go sit at the computer console. After several hours of work, the old man returned to Magdalena and removed the sensors from her body. He lifted her free, then put her golden dress back on and reattached Amrita to her Head. Next, he stripped bare and went to go lie down into the big metal machine himself, attaching the sensors to his body’s pressure points that subtley pulsed where his body’s longest meridians intersected. Then he laid back, closed his eyes, and began breathing big, long, full, slow breaths of inhalations and exhalations interchangeably, most considerately. Before long, Al Rodnam fell into a deep sleep.

 

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In Dreamtime, Al Rodnam lucidly reviewed his Process in his Mind, contemplated exactly how much freedom he really had in what he was doing. Before returning the Mother and her pet to the current-day Surface-Earth Finding of Bry Dellows drama up above, Al Rodnam needed to make sure he conjured forth his physically manifested Shadow Identity into an individual all his own so that he could bait the Mother with it in the future and aid in speeding along and ensuring the Birth of Mandorla and the sprout of the first magical Space-Grain at the Andromeda Biodome, which would be needed to feed the Bry Dellows Bloodpigs, and was always the only thing they would eat. He would do this because of his previously agreed-upon sanctioning by Solaria to interfere in Earth Drama. Part of his agenda on Earth was to ensure the Conception and Birth of Mandorla so that she would then be sacrificed in exchange for himself during the Aqueous Transmission. This would allow the mystic to continue living in his old-man body form while freely going about activities upon Surface-Earth. And the old man had a marked fascination with and fetish for the Milky Way’s Earth Planet.

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Since Fletcher Munsin’s sperm nuke had Now dropped onto the Mother Magdalena’s dirty doomed-Earth Seed of perpetual apocalyptica only months ago with the man then simultaneously becoming erased from existence, Al Rodnam knew that the stone Pyramid Stargate of Godheds at the Surface-Earth site that aligned itself with his Home star-system of the Sirius Sector, along with most everything else on Surface-Earth, would be completely destroyed. He would have to rely on Amrita and the Mother for a long while in order to gain access to the Inner Earth Underworld. This was the most important reason the mystic had transmuted the robot carcass of Amrita on their journey to the Hollow— to turn her back into her true form, a sly little serpent with High Wisdom of the Earth Planet who preyed on pussy duplicitously. Al Rodnam’s Immortal Earth Southpole Homeland of lush jungle would remain a secret only he would know about; he was aware that Magdalena wouldn’t be keen enough to find the portal to it at the Bottom of Breña. Each time Al Rodnam Birthed through Breña into his Immortal Earth Southpole Homeland, he received immense amounts of potent storable vitality in the transfer; Breña alone offered the Sirian nothing. He would need the Holy Body of Fletcher Munsin to initiate this whole drama he was destined to be ensnared in, and to appease the elemental forces as well as gain immense stores of vitality in the Process. Yes, he needed to make sure he conjured forth his physically manifested Shadow Identity. He needed to make sure he created Fletcher Munsin.

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Who is Fletcher Munsin? Fletcher Munsin was the first prototype embodiment of the perfect and divine bioorganic template of the Human Man, engineered by its architect the Sirian High Avatar Al Rodnam. His was the first body forged into fashion from within the depths of the Inner Earth Underworld, its birth facilitated by his star-crossed counterpart with expert marksmanship through the Void by the Word that he had Once Spoken. Fletcher Munsin was meant to serve as the most practical living vessel the mystic could manifest that would function as a fallback safeproof backup embodiment of the mystic’s Own Soul, a totally innocent, preciously inquiring humanoid immolation that, Once offered up to the Dark Mother, would allow the Earth of the Milky Way and all habitants onboard her Emerald Timeship to keep on in its precession eternally, albeit locked in an endless time loop that would repeat in kind its seasonal attributes age after age eternally, intimately affecting all sentience of its star system and beyond, permanently. And in a way intrinsically bent to the Will of Fletcher Munsin.

At the right time and in the right space from within the Underworld, at the Sirius Stargate Bunker hidden in its jungles, Al Rodnam had begun Seeding his creation, carefully conjuring forth the Body of Fletcher Munsin who lay before him in a most curious Heavy Metal-wrought Sarcophagus, Casting it into being through a small, modified portable Sirian Space Crystal he kept in the bunker. Slowly and surely Al Rodnam had spent the night shaping the man into an alluring young version of his own human form, an almost otherwise identical pristine humanoid creature who would, at the mystic’s own discretion, be henceforth subject to banishment within this most-curious fresh and lush, jungle-like Underworld betwixt Realms.

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Al Rodnam awoke in a startled daze some time later, his short, hairy form hunched over the toilet in the bunker’s bathroom. The old man then took a moment to shake fiercely like a dog, shedding his weariness away. How long had he been asleep? What was the current condition of his new personal creation in the machine? How much time had gone by as he worked at the strange machine’s console Forging his Shadow into Being as the machine’s suction sensors were attached to a portable Sirian Crystal inside of it? Al Rodnam quickly wiped his ass, took a steamy shower nearby, reapplied his robes about his tiny frame, and then stepped to the main room to check on his physically manifest Shadow Identity he had spent countless hours manifesting.

Lying inside the metal machine was a grey translucent humanoid form with semi-etheric splotches of multi-colors subtley swirling inside it. The suction sensors were stuck all over a fully-grown body that had partially formed in place of the crystal, their wires protruding out from all around it. The mystic had previously had thousands of years to get to intimately know his astral body, but he was unsure of how the physical manifestation would actually look. Because he was unable to alter its facial appearance, he had tried to make it look much younger than he was in an attempt to disguise the features from Mother Magdalena. He again stepped to the console and began tapping away at his overly-intricate keyboard. Fletcher Munsin’s Consciousness must be memory-altered, his Body kept safe here within the Inner Earth for a time. Lachrylon had demanded it so of the old mystic, precisely for when the moment Fletcher Munsin would be needed in the nearby Realm upon the surface of a post-apocalyptic Earth. Fletcher Munsin was the Key. The prophesied willing Sacrifice of Fletcher Munsin to the brutal yet otherwise oblivious Mother Magdalena, who was “the Eternal Heart in the Body of all Human Beings” as dubbed by Solaria, was to act as the euthanizing eucharist of all Earthling ritualists that would then set into motion the series of events that would occur from within and just beside Surface-Earth’s Pond of the Aqueous Transmission—that is, as it was to eventually Once again subtly appear alongside the nautical No One, temporarily lost amid the highly radioactive barren expanses of Badlands that clutched the world in dryness and sprawled on endlessly afar.

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Fletcher Munsin would know the old man simply as his “Father,” the mystic decided, of whom he wasn’t, and of whom he was not to See until the far future. Fletcher Munsin would never in his life come to receive a shred of proof that he even had a Mother, which he didn’t. As to the scarce magical populations within Amrita’s Inner Earth Underworld outside the bunker as well as to those wretched Ones upon her Surface-Earth counterpart, those dwellers all around had heard the stories of Al Rodnam but knew him as the First Godhed, an Avatar from the Stars who had Once landed and then settled upon the doomed Earth Planet of which he had always been intuitively drawn to. Fiercely independent, Al Rodnam was a skilled man on a mission, so coming to Find Bry Dellows and the sacred Hollow it wards within.

Satisfied for the time Being, Al Rodnam abandoned his efforts at the console and strolled over to the Mother and snake asleep on a bed in a small adjacent room. He glanced at the two in askance. The Spell he had placed on them would be wearing off soon. Sighing with a bittersweet resolve, he gathered up his things and his company and Headed out the door of the bunker, eager to make it back to that elliptical locus of the lush, green Underworld of which they had warped into from the spot at the edge of the Hollow, back upon a newly apocalyptic Genesis-Era Surface-Earth of which he and the Mother would now begin colonizing. -MIKE EYE

SNEEK PEEK Chapter 1 SEQUEL To The Aqueous Transmission by MIKE EYE

 

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CHAPTER ONE, NEW STORY


 

Maintaining the reticence he had upheld throughout the whole of their journey, indeed as it was his custom, Al Rodnam stood tall and straight, meditating peacefully beside the hungry flames of his camp, his body stripped bare from having just abandoned his robes to the side. He would briefly pause his endeavor periodically to spy out Mother Magdalena, who was sitting a ways off on a stumpy log next to her pet snake, Amrita. Aware of the snake’s uncanny ability to speak, the wise mystic heard nothing yet of the sound of conversation between them he was anticipating. Carefully, as the old man slowly held up mudras to the flames with his hands, he continued to keep discreet, silent watch over the Mother and her pet in between salutations, waiting to hear who would say what first.

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It was nighttime on a cold, shaken Earth of all ash and for the past several months since the crash-landing of her ship and her formal anointing by Solaria, Magdalena had been searching in vain for any sign of life anywhere. It would be a long while before she found any. She felt fortunate that she now had magical talismans to put to use for her aid. And they looked pretty cool, she kept telling herself. For one, her magnificent golden glowing dress would protect her from the harsh, spoiled atmosphere of a post-apocalyptic Earth. For another, she had figured out how to use Solaria’s stone azure amulet, which reacted to the most prescient Pond of the Aqueous Transmission.

Tall, dark, and dazzling, Mother Magdalena, who had been fully pregnant at the time, several months earlier, was then all alone upon a ruined Earth save for her traveling companion, Amrita, who at the time was a robot-cat. The two would trudge on aimlessly over the expanse of steamy ruins as they continued to be beaten about relentlessly by the robust, radioactive winds all the while, making for a very frustrating trek. After some time, Magdalena and Amrita were able to make it to the Pond of the Aqueous Transmission, as they recognized the stone amulet glowing and pulsing more and more as they got closer to it. When they arrived at their destination, they were face-to-face with an ultra-smooth silvery pond that was not in the ground but hovered above it, wavering slowly around in a most subtle manner, twinkles gleaming blindly off hints of colors slowly swimming inside.

There they would remain for several days, as the Mother silently gave wretched birth to the still and hideous Mandorla, who had been, ever since that awkward, violent day, nearly impossible for Magdalena to come to terms with and accept as a person. She knew the baby was precious, though, as there was no mistaking the oddity of the Moon turning blood red as soon as she severed the umbilical cord from herself.

 

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That same blood-red circular smear in the sky was gleaming fiercely overhead now above the new place they settled, a dark crimson haze settled over the unsavory scenery. After the Aqueous Transmission, which had introduced the old man to a terrified Magdalena and brought about the disappearance of her child Mandorla, the mystic had taken the Mother and Amrita to their new home: the Hollow, which would eventually turn into Bry Dellows, the largest all-female indigenous tribal village on Surface Earth. They had arrived just days ago and were still exploring the area, assessing the damage they saw throughout its expanse. They discovered nothing more than stone ruins and dead, blackened tree trunks everywhere and it was clear that a great deal of work had to be done to provide for any type of civilization, no matter how uncivilized.

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Voices from the two he kept watch over were abruptly heard and an alerted Al Rodnam remained still, listening in. As Mother and snake began walking from the campfire, Al Rodnam waited ‘til they were just out of sight before cloaking himself and starting to trail them. He watched them walk about 100 yards through deadened brush just beyond the bank of their base camp.

Slightly bewildered yet remaining focused on the activity before him, the mystic watched carefully with a clench-jawed conviction at Mother Magdalena and her sly serpent Amrita suddenly zapping away in a flash, a star-studded cartoonish rainbow hardening momentarily into a frozen ice sculpture before shattering away in a rush into glittering tinsel. Despite his depth of knowledge, the old mystic couldn’t help but be beside himself, despite himself, altogether wanting to also immediately gain access to the Inner Earth Underworld at Once, himself. Not to worry, he thought to himself; he will be there to seize control of the rites of passage into the Underworld through this teleport system that the snake has shown the Mother. Next time they venture out, he will be, he assured himself.

The following evening, an overly eager Al Rodnam was ready when the Mother and her pet snake took up surreptitious stride toward the Stargate at the edge of the Hollow that would undoubtedly lead to the Inner Earth Underworld. As soon as Magdalena and Amrita reached the spot that the mystic had seen them disappear the previous night, his cloaked form quietly crept up directly behind them, his hand held up taught before him. Before Amrita could bond with the Mother at that very curious location, enabling them both to gain entry into her Realm down below, Al Rodnam promptly used his abilities to temporarily stun the snake and take control of Magdalena’s motor skills while her Consciousness remained in a trance. Amrita would remain in an elapsed state of suspended animation. Using the combination of Amrita wrapped around Magdalena’s Head with the precise location of Surface-Earth Land, the old mystic, invisible to any detection that may be warding the unmarked portal entry, easily passed through the Stargate along with the other two, something he was unable to do without them.

 

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A flash of lazery sways and the trio that was really an uno blinked into a smooth dark green of leathery leaves lifted all amongst them aloft, a vast breathing network of deep jungle spreadout before them. The mystic picked up the Mother and held her out before him. He mindfully mumbled a mantra and she floated off him, drifting slightly apart, dead to the world, but not. Al Rodnam tied a phantom chain around the gorgeous darkly complexioned woman’s aura and proceeded forth, the woman and pet hovering over the Soil of the Inner Earth, which was really the Air.

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Over and through this dense tropical warm rainforest they embarked, exuberant, exotic exclamations from friendly wildlife being heard all the while, feathery magical paths enigmatically paved out before them. Al Rodnam chose the One he Knew led to Breña and proceeded at a medium pace. He reached the Pond and jumped into it, his captures sleepily following obliviously close behind.

A sway of flashy lazers and the three transport from One esoterik watery bed to another. Al Rodnam swam up to the top of it, his quarry in toe. Emerging from this special Pond of the mystic’s Immortal Earth Southpole Homeland, the three Headed for the ancient massive hickory nearby. A lush, thriving, forever youthful rainforest, perpetually fixed in a petrified state of proliferation sprawled all about before them, a vast, impenetrable den of cozy outdoors that had Once been summoned forth by the old mystic and belonged solely to him. Al Rodnam approached the Tree with the Mother and Serpent and ran his wrinkly old hands right up to the Solaria Seed that was brightly glowing inside a crystal embedded in the old Tree’s humungous stump. He rapidly recited a refrain and removed the Solaria Seed, an extremely high-pitched blaring sound all around it instantly diminishing into a low pulsing hum. Prior to making his way back to the Pond, the old man was sure not to forget mindfully breaking off a branch of the mystical old Tree and tucking it away in his robes before leaving his Homeland.

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Birthing out of Breña, the three found themselves in Earth’s Underworld once again. A smile on his face with music in his Head, Al Rodnam took Magdalena and Amrita down an overgrown path that was Sunny and alive with all kinds of strange little creatures, the two in toe following close behind, hovering lifelessly just over the Soil beneath, still oblivious to it all. When they arrived at the secret bunker that strongheld the Stargate to Sirius, the mystic left his company just hovering there in one corner of the room and proceeded to the expansive control panel before him. Taking a seat the old man rummaged through some of the computer’s files through a holographic display, and read through some of the documents he kept lab data and personal experiences logged in, a firm tug at his long, grey beard as he did so.

He turned to his right where a large futuristic-looking metal bed chamber about seven feet long was situated. The machine was intimidating, connected to dozens of thick, ribbed wires on either side of it that ran into the metal. The Chair looked something of a cross between a cryo-chamber and a coffin, and the console of where Al Rodnam sat housed the controls of it. He looked straight at the strange machine and took a brief moment to pause, rolling over reflections in his Mind. Then he glanced over to the two he had left in the corner at the end of the room and looked back at the machine. It was time, he told himself. And he was ready. -MIKE  EYE

(No Words Necessary)