2023 And Ghost Particles Haunting MINERvA

    ghost particles





    ·FEBRUARY 7, 2023

    For the first time, scientists with an international experimental group say they have uncovered a new method of studying the components within the nucleus of atoms, using a novel method involving mysterious “ghost particles” known for the rarity of their interactions with matter.

    Once considered impossible, the achievement was made by physicists at the University of Rochester in association with the MINERvA neutrino experiment, who now report their successful studies of the structure of protons by employing a beam of neutrinos in the journal Nature.



    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.

    The Wonderful Uses of Literary Devices

    Literary Devices can make the words of a novel pop up into your head as if you were watching a 3D movie. They can be amazing when well used. Coupled with your imagination, there are no limits to how Literary Devices can enhance the content of a story and make it come alive for you with ultra-realistic fervor. We will eventually discuss some basic applications of Literary Devices in future posts, with examples. As for now, consider this list of the Literary Devices we have at our disposal, and see how many you know already: -MIKE EYE


    • Accumulation
    • Acrostic
    • Active Voice
    • Ad Hominem
    • Adage
    • Adynaton
    • Allegory
    • Alliteration
    • Allusion
    • Ambiguity
    • Amplification
    • Anachronism
    • Anacoluthon
    • Anadiplosis
    • Anagnorisis
    • Anagram
    • Analogy
    • Analytical Essay
    • Anapest
    • Anaphora
    • Anecdote
    • Antagonist
    • Antanaclasis
    • Antecedent
    • Anthimeria
    • Anthology
    • Anthropomorphism
    • Anti-Climax
    • Anti-Hero
    • Antimetabole
    • Antiphrasis
    • Antistrophe
    • Antithesis
    • Aphorism
    • Aphorismus
    • Aporia
    • Aposiopesis
    • Apostrophe
    • Appositive
    • Archaism
    • Archetype
    • Argument
    • Argumentative Essay
    • Aside
    • Assertion
    • Assonance
    • Asyndeton
    • Atmosphere
    • Attitude
    • Audience
    • Auditory Imagery
    • Autobiography


    • Balanced Sentence
    • Ballad
    • Bandwagon
    • Bathos
    • Bias
    • Bildungsroman
    • Biography
    • Black Humor
    • Blank Verse


    • Cacophony
    • Cadence
    • Caesura
    • Canon
    • Canto
    • Caricature
    • Catachresis
    • Catalog
    • Catastrophe
    • Catharsis
    • Cause and Effect Essay
    • Character
    • Characterization
    • Chiasmus
    • Circumlocution
    • Claim
    • Cliché
    • Cliffhanger
    • Climax
    • Coherence
    • Colloquialism
    • Comedy
    • Comic Relief
    • Comparatives
    • Comparison
    • Comparison and Contrast Essay
    • Conceit
    • Concession
    • Conflict
    • Connotation
    • Consonance
    • Context
    • Contrast
    • Couplet
    • Critical Essay
    • Critique
    • Cumulative Sentence


    • Dactyl
    • Deductive Reasoning
    • Denotation
    • Denouement
    • Deus Ex Machina
    • Diacope
    • Dialect
    • Dialogue
    • Diatribe
    • Dichotomy
    • Diction
    • Didacticism
    • Digression
    • Dilemma
    • Direct Characterization
    • Discourse
    • Dissonance
    • Distortion
    • Doppelganger
    • Double Entendre
    • Drama
    • Dramatic Irony
    • Dramatic Monologue
    • Dynamic Character
    • Dysphemism
    • Dystopia


    • Elegy
    • Elision
    • Ellipsis
    • End Rhyme
    • End-Stopped Line
    • Enjambment
    • Enthymeme
    • Enumeration
    • Epic
    • Epigram
    • Epigraph
    • Epilogue
    • Epiphany
    • Epiphora
    • Epistle
    • Epistolary
    • Epistrophe
    • Epitaph
    • Epithet
    • Epizeuxis
    • Eponym
    • Eristic
    • Essay
    • Ethos
    • Eulogy
    • Euphemism
    • Euphony
    • Evidence
    • Exact Rhyme
    • Exaggeration
    • Exemplum
    • Existentialism
    • Expletive
    • Explication
    • Explicatory Essay
    • Exposition
    • Expository Essay
    • Extended Metaphor
    • External Conflict
    • Eye Rhyme


    • Fable
    • Fairy Tale
    • Fallacy
    • Falling Action
    • Fantasy
    • Farce
    • Feminine Rhyme
    • Fiction
    • Figurative Language
    • Figure of Speech
    • Flash-Forward
    • Flashback
    • Flat Character
    • Foil
    • Folklore
    • Foot
    • Foreshadowing
    • Frame Story
    • Free Verse


    • Genre


    • Haiku
    • Half Rhyme
    • Hamartia
    • Hero
    • Homily
    • Homograph
    • Homophone
    • Hook
    • Hubris
    • Humor
    • Hyperbaton
    • Hyperbole
    • Hypophora
    • Hypotaxis
    • Hypothetical Question


    • Iamb
    • Iambic Pentameter
    • Idiom
    • Illusion
    • Imagery
    • Imperative Sentence
    • Implied Metaphor
    • In Medias Res
    • Inciting Incident
    • Induction
    • Inference
    • Innuendo
    • Internal Rhyme
    • Intertextuality
    • Invective
    • Inversion
    • Irony
    • Isocolon


    • Jargon
    • Juxtaposition


    • Kenning
    • Kinesthesia


    • Lampoon
    • Legend
    • Limerick
    • Line Break
    • Litotes
    • Logos
    • Lyric
    • Lyric Poem


    • Main Idea
    • Malapropism
    • Maxim
    • Meiosis
    • Melodrama
    • Memoir
    • Metalepsis
    • Metaphor
    • Metaphysical
    • Meter
    • Metonymy
    • Monologue
    • Mood
    • Moral
    • Motif
    • Motivation
    • Myth


    • Narrative
    • Narrative Poem
    • Naturalism
    • Nemesis
    • Neologism
    • Non Sequitur
    • Nostalgia
    • Novel
    • Novella


    • Octave
    • Ode
    • Omniscient
    • Onomatopoeia
    • Ordinal Number
    • Overstatement
    • Oxymoron


    • Pacing
    • Palindrome
    • Parable
    • Paradox
    • Paralipsis
    • Parallel Structure
    • Parallelism
    • Paraphrase
    • Paraprosdokian
    • Parataxis
    • Parenthesis
    • Parody
    • Paronomasia
    • Parrhesia
    • Passive Voice
    • Pastiche
    • Pathetic Fallacy
    • Pathos
    • Pedantic
    • Pentameter
    • Periphrasis
    • Persona
    • Personification
    • Perspective
    • Persuasion
    • Persuasive Essay
    • Play
    • Pleonasm
    • Plot
    • Poem
    • Poetic Justice
    • Point of View
    • Polyptoton
    • Polysyndeton
    • Portmanteau
    • Procatalepsis
    • Process Essay
    • Prologue
    • Propaganda
    • Prose
    • Prosody
    • Prosthesis
    • Protagonist
    • Proverb
    • Pun


    • Quatrain


    • Realism
    • Rebuttal
    • Red Herring
    • Reductio ad Absurdum
    • Refrain
    • Refutation
    • Repetition
    • Resolution
    • Rhetoric
    • Rhetorical Devices
    • Rhetorical Question
    • Rhyme
    • Rhyme Scheme
    • Rhythm
    • Riddle
    • Rising Action
    • Romance
    • Romanticism
    • Round Character
    • Run-On Sentence


    • Sarcasm
    • Satire
    • Scansion
    • Self-Fulfilling Prophecy
    • Semantic
    • Sensory Language
    • Sesquipedalian
    • Sestet
    • Sestina
    • Setting
    • Short Story
    • Sibilance
    • Simile
    • Simple Paragraph
    • Situational Irony
    • Slang
    • Snark
    • Solecism
    • Soliloquy
    • Sonnet
    • Sound Devices
    • Speaker
    • Spondee
    • Stanza
    • Static Character
    • Straw Man
    • Stream of Consciousness
    • Style
    • Subjective
    • Subplot
    • Superlative
    • Surrealism
    • Suspense
    • Syllogism
    • Symbolism
    • Syncope
    • Synecdoche
    • Synesis
    • Synesthesia
    • Syntax


    • Tautology
    • Tercet
    • Theme
    • Thesis
    • Tmesis
    • Tone
    • Tragedy
    • Tragic Flaw
    • Tragic Hero
    • Tragicomedy
    • Transition
    • Tricolon
    • Trimeter
    • Trochaic
    • Trope
    • Truism


    • Understatement
    • Undertone
    • Utopia


    • Verbal Irony
    • Verisimilitude
    • Vernacular
    • Verse
    • Vignette
    • Villanelle
    • Voice
    • Volta


    • Wit


    • Zeugma
    • Zoomorphism


    More sick The Last of Us Part II shots of mine. This was an incredibly enjoyable, totally epic, realistic video game, and was a complete thrill to play! And the gameplay is tight and smooth. This game also features some of the best graphics I’ve seen on the PS4, and I will be uploading prime screenshots from this game soon. I’ve noticed the uploads of HD videos on WordPress dramatically reduce the quality, so I would recommend you either download or ask me for copies of the original — Thanx!



    * * * * [SPOILER ALERT] * * * *

    Here are some seriously intense video clips from The Last of Us Part II played by yours truly as Abby of the WLF faction. The Wolves have been competing with the Seraphites for control of Seattle in a post-pandemic, post-apocalyptic world; all of the police have either been killed or joined the Wolves. But when Abby is almost hung and gutted by the religious Seraphites, she is saved by a young boy Lev, and his sister, who had been ousted by the Seraphites, and the leader of the Wolves soon catches Abby affiliating herself with the “Scars,” as the Wolves call them. With Lev now a resented apostate, and Abby forced to defect from the Wolves, she and Lev eventually travel to Santa Barbara where the remnants of the Fireflies are supposed to be located, after Ellie kills Abby’s friends in anger over Ellie’s horrible loss of Joel. -MIKE EYE

    PS. There will be one more post of cool videos from The Last of Us Part II coming up!


    Getting behind the guns and huge arms of Joel’s killer, Abby, from The Last of Us Part II, gives the player different weapons and techniques, and allows you to also get inside the head of one of the game’s most brutal antagonists. Yes, she has a story of her own, and is actually a high-ranking member of Seattle’s Washington Liberation Front (WLF) who’s life gets saved by dissident ex-members of the primitive Seraphite faction, and ends up becoming a post-apocalyptic rogue outcast herself. Enjoy these short, badass video clips! -MIKE EYE


    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


    Now, here are some of my short, exciting, scary and wonderful video highlights as Ellie from The Last of Us II, exploring Seattle and taking out various stages of the cordycepts-infected as well as uninfected enemy faction members. I will make another post after this one featuring more videos of my high achievements with Ellie, and then make a few posts with videos of me as Abby, who is stronger and even better equipped to deal with zombies than Ellie is. Enjoy! -MIKE EYE


    After having had a blast playing through the highly anticipated PS4 game multiple times, and after reviewing and editing my personal video clips from it, I am now ready to showcase my Last of Us II big survival action highlight videos for the world to see!

    For those who were unaware, this action survival game sequel is the second installment in another highly emotional, yet also grisly, and most thrilling adventure that takes place in a post-pandemic, post-apocalyptic United States where most people have either died or have transmuted into various stages of sneaky, vicious feral zombies, due to the Outbreak of a cordycepts brain infection that has wiped out most of the world’s population. The last non-infected survivors of the US eventually dismantle all law-enforcement and split into separate warring factions that patrol the now destroyed and empty lands for supplies or other survivors.

    In the first game, 14-year old Ellie, seemingly the only survivor to be naturally immune to the virus, was being trafficked by members of the Fireflies faction across the country to be used, and then killed, to make a vaccine to the cordycepts. But Joel, the man charged with taking her on this trek to the Fireflies hospital base for the operation, was not about to let that happen once he found out it would kill her; not after the powerful bond they had made on their journey there, and how much Ellie reminded him of his own daughter, who had been tragically killed by quarantine zone feds.

    In the second game, Joel is killed for being the one to ruin any chance of there being a vaccine for the virus, and Ellie, severely emotionally distraught after witnessing his brutal murder, goes on a quest for revenge to take out Joel’s killer, Abby, of the WLF faction, who’s father was the doctor to perform Ellie’s operation in the first game, and was killed by Joel to save Ellie’s life. As a player, you get to control Joel, Ellie, and Abby at different times throughout the game. The bond Ellie and Joel make over the years is extraordinarily adorable and incredibly powerful, and it is so wonderful to be a part of it as a player. This special bond has also become beloved among countless Last of Us fans around the world, and has even spawned a TV show based on the game on HBO that is already amassing fans.

    I’ll begin my Last of Us II showcase with this first post, not of me stealthily evading and taking down infected zombies yet, but of a cut-scene of a flashback from when Joel thoughtfully takes Ellie to a science and nature museum for her birthday. Remember, these are post-apocalyptic times in a fictional US, and there is nobody around and nothing to do anymore. -MIKE EYE

    A special birthday for Ellie.


    The seventh, most amazing installment of the popular action-adventure series finds Kratos, the God of War, with a new young son in Midgard, one of the Nine Realms of Norse myth.

    Throughout their adventures, the battle-hardened monster-slayer and his son Atreus use newly-given magic to operate the World Tree to travel the realms, as they attempt to activate the Gate from Midgard that leads to the realms’ tallest peak in Jotenheim to spread the ashes of their late wife and mother. Allying themselves with two highly skilled Dwarven brother blacksmiths as well as the Witch of the Woods, Freya, Kratos and his son receive protection and advice that greatly aid in their quest to unlock the passage to Jotenheim.

    Throughout this epic game, we join these two, plus the friendly, story-filled talking Head of Mimir the All-Seer on their travels from Midgard, to Alfeim, Helheim, Muspelheim, and back again, Atreus learning how and where to properly channel his anger all the while as they aid warrior spirits and battle trolls, dragons, ogres, and witches to reach their goal. The only thing really stopping them from achieving this, ironically enough, is Freya’s son (and Thor’s brother) Baldur, who stalks them the entire game in order to try and reach Jotenheim himself.

    After reviewing hundreds of screenshots I took throughout this incredibly exciting game, here are the best ones so you all get to see how badass this game really is. Videos and images of more PS4 games to come. -MIKE EYE



    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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    Slowly rising out of her unconsciousness, the little snake shuddered as she tried to shake off her immense dreariness, noticing at Once that the last time she had felt this Lightheaded was when she didn’t even have a Head. She was packed in tightly somewhere, buried deep among countless forms that matched hers. She realized something bad had happened to her; most of her memory seemed so distant she thought she may now be living a new life.

    But she wasn’t, she realized, after a few unsteady moments. She had been taken from her best friend and fellow neurobiological counterpart, how long ago she hadn’t the slightest clue, but as the clearness of her memories sharpened slightly, Amrita could not mistake the stark sense of déjà vu that struck her. She had been here before, she realized ironically, in the face of not yet remembering how she even got there. It was long ago, she realized, and she had been caught up in the same messy mix with other snakes all slopped together in what seemed to be some sort of satchel.

    Amrita started to slither her way free of all the others pressed about her, but as she tried to go any further upward she felt a softening of the response-time of her efforts, her motor skills having somehow become dramatically weakened. With difficulty, the snake started to slowly move as it attempted slithering past all that confined her within. The other snakes she was contained with seemed to be dead or at least unconscious like she had been; none of them moved.

    As Amrita quietly poked her tiny dirtied head out at the surface of her soup bowl of serpents, she just as soon remembered she had originally been placed in a glass box, as she found herself dumbly looking directly at it across from her. But her thoughts about what exactly had happened to her quickly diminished as the background of where she was came painfully to the forefront of her gaze.




    In the near distance were at least fifty short, hairy, and nude men who all looked quite similar, all clustered together in a cloud of slight snorts and sharp moans before the wizened guru who stood blindfolded, wrapped in his long, flowing grey robes against all his brothers and sons with the almighty Staff of Lachrylon raised Highly in One hand and his mysterious bottomless drinking gourd beared by the other. He was feeding and blessing these men with his eternal magic water, which fully provided them with all the right nutrients they would need to survive, Amrita Knew.

    As curious as she was about what was happening before her, Amrita remembered that she had been taken captive and was now resenting the old man for it. This was her chance to make a break for it and slither away before anyone noticed her escaping. But before she did, her curiosity convinced her to spy out this spectacle a moment longer.


    Al Rodnam, although short himself, stood tall over all the little mysteriously shrunken Gilded Grunts, who were slightly jostling about in mixed confusion beside him and muttering low phrases of gibberish that trailed off into other sporadic outbursts. There was a subtle glow about the Grunts as they Received the special Water, and slight sparkles of stardust slowly beamed off their inquiring Heads with a blinding arc at the sheen. And as Amrita was watching this, she made a disturbing connection.

    These were the Gilded Grunts — some of the only men left on the planet since Mother Magdalena had followed the mystic’s orders and chopped off their…

    These here were not snakes at all she was packed within.

    In a flash of an instant — almost in the same moment she realized it — Amrita shot out of the bag of dicks and made a break for it, shaking off the pestilence that had fastened a quick grip on her.

    But it was no use.

    “Ahh, there you are!” she could hear the old man cry in the distance as she felt herself being raised into the air and brought toward him, her efforts at defying his clutch of magick futile. “I was wondering when you’d arise!”


    Amrita panicked as she was being brought towards Al Rodnam, squirming with all her might in an attempt to escape his hold, but as she floated involuntarily up to his Head, the old mystic attempted to put her at ease.

    “There, there,” he soothed part-mockingly with his Voice and one cocked eyebrow before casting aside all speech for telepathy. “I can also communicate with you like this,” he said matter-of-factly with bold emphasis.

    “Let go of me!” Amrita shot back telepathically, hisses escaping her mouth with a forked-tongue fury. “I know. Fuck You, old man! I’m still furious with you for turning me into a snake! Release me at once!”

    “Oh? I thought you would be delighted to return back to your true form and mingle with those of your shape and nature,” said Al Rodnam with a wink as he fastened her with a locking sound about the crown of his Head. “Besides… Lina, myself, and these Grunts here need you to Be this way. As do the Hawks and All of Bry Dellows and the planet Urth. I also Know that You Know this is So.” He pointed to all the little hairy, retarded old men as they dumbly looked back at Amrita who couldn’t at all move her Body as much as she tried. “Come with me,” stated the old man to the poor snake as if she had a choice to do so.




    Al Rodnam brought Amrita down a dusty path that was bordered mindfully with glowing rune-marked stones at its edges that gave off a faint phosphorescence upon the approach of the old mystic.

    Then Amrita heard the squeals.

    Just ahead, the trapped serpent so hexed who now functioned as the mystic’s halo noticed very obviously where Al Rodnam had brought their transmuting unicorn friend from Agartha to be duplicated for Loombug food. As they passed, Amrita could see countless hairy hogs pigging around fastidiously in a wood-fashioned sty that was also littered with runes all over.

    “Thank you for bringing me your friend,” the mystic motioned with one hand to the sty. “As I mentioned, I was able to duplicate him to the correct number as needed by the Loombugs for survival after I am gone and will no longer be able to bestow upon them my magickal sustenance.”


    “Gone?” asked Amrita, surprised, still resentful. “You’re leaving?” she asked in an annoyed voice.

    “Soon,” said the old man as he continued past the noisy pig pen to the edge of his camp. “But first, we must do something important.”

    “I’m not doing anything for you!” exclaimed Amrita, affectionately offended. “You turned my friend into a pig!”

    “I did not,” replied Al Rodnam carefully. “The surface world’s environment transformed him to something useful.”

    “Something useful?” bellowed the serpent in indignation, “The same way I’m being useful to you?”

    “Precisely!” the old man stated as he came to a halt.

    He waited several moments more before again taking up the Staff of Lachrylon, softly muttering some indiscernible phrases as he waved it around before him. The Staff flared to life, hot orange streaks flooding out of the runes on it in waves, a fire ripping open an electrically charged circle around them. It lit up the environment in a burst, catching Amrita off-guard, as if she could guard herself, anyway. The mystic made another full fiery arch above his head with the Staff in One full swoop that left trails of blue electric shocks in its Wake. Then he tapped the Staff against the Stuck Amrita on his Head Four Times, and by the fourth tap, they had already transported to a different location.

    Spread out wide and far were gentle rolling pastures of grassless Soil dotted sparsely with small huts, the materials of its design undeterminable by Amrita. Encasing everything all around the mute pastures was Diamond Glass held in place by titanium alloy, the glitter of zillions of Stars, Nebulae, and Aurorae spilling through the crystal-clear glass and illuminating the entirety of the outpost most brilliantly in a flush of celestial glister.


    “I know you know this place,” Al Rodnam stated calmly.

    The serpent on his head rolled around her eye sockets. “The Andromeda Biodome. But why?!”

    “You Know Why, Amrita. To keep our boys ready to be reaping the Space-Grain that will One Day be sprouted here to keep the Blood-Pigs fed so the Loombugs can eat. We need many Loombugs alive, Rita.”

    “Yes. And permanent sustenance for them. Once you’re gone,” Amrita remembered telepathically aloud. The man turned around and with him, Amrita, and the snake were surprised to see that all the Gilded Grunts of Bry Dellows had followed them through the portal to the Andromeda Biodome. “It’s True, I Know that the Loombugs must be fed and kept safe, multiplying to the utmost in order to eventually give birth to more Hankerhawks, which Lina needs to have her Revelation, I Know.” Her pupils were not only fully dilated but spinning around in continuum, one counterclockwise to the other.

    “But there are very few men left in Bry Dellows and our jarred rations of sperm are running thin, old man. You said you must go from Bry Dellows. As of now, we have managed to Spawn only Four Hankerhawks… we need eight more until they can Combine with Lina. The prospects of our highly-populated Imagined future appear grim. Will You leave Us no sperm?”

    “I have no more to give,” Al Rodnam stated simply with wide eyes and matter-of-factly, quickly changing the subject before Amrita could interject. “I brought our Grunts, who have all been Gilded by our Mother Magdalena, Here to this High Kusp of galactic hallways, inside a hidden pocket of time-space.”




    “I Know about the Andromeda Biodome,” declared Amrita willfully. “Why do you bring me here, old man?”

    “To return this to you,” he stated calmly, and after several gags he mindfully regurgitated out from his mouth something small and sparkly, drenched in mystikal Saliva. It was Magdalena’s Amulet which he had been saving inside himself until this moment here and now, She Knew. It had somehow transformed into an Emerald, and Amrita couldn’t understand.

    “I don’t under—“

    “Shhh,” the mystic whispered to the snake. “Sure you do.” And with that he held the shimmering Emerald against Amrita, who remained locked atop his head. It fixed into place with a *shluckk* sound and a huge splash of green lit Amrita up.

    “Let’s go back to Bry Dellows,” said Al Rodnam. “We’ll leave the Grunts be for the moment.

    Amrita, amid the feeling of intense euphoria, felt also climactically invulnerable as the old man passed through the space-time rip that had been left open and entered his camp at Bry Dellows Once again.

    It was nighttime and the Moon was Full but not white, returned to a deep, familiar tone of thick burgundy that flooded the dusky depths of the Hollow with a pale, bloody flush.

    “We’ll leave this artificial wormhole opened for the time being,” he said matter-of-factly. “I have engineered it to only work with the Grunts from now on.

    “Now. Go and tell Magdalena what I have told you. By the time she hears what you have to say, I will be Gone.”

    With another loud *schluck* sound, Amrita was removed from the mystic’s head and set free upon the ground, the green sheen diminishing abruptly with the cease of the sound.

    Amrita slithered as fast as she could all the way to Mother Magdalena’s campsite.






    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 🌌


    So Heavy, So Innovative, So Epic!

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





    A few listens will blow open your Soul for a few moments. -MIKE EYE ⊙

    OUT TODAY! America’s Emerging Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers: Northeast Region

    I’m happy to have a taste of my next novel published in Z Publishing’s latest installment: America’s Emerging Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers: Northeast Region! Please pickup a copy and support your local talented independent writers today! -MIKE EYE ⊙


    The book on Amazon here

    The book on Z Publishing’s Website here







    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.




    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.




    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.




    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!”



    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.


    *     *     *


    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.

    images (1).jpeg

    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!”




    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


    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…

    View original post 1,147 more words





    Chapter 8

    She slipped from the shifting portal at the edge of the Hollow so softly as through running Water with a resolute spring, gorgeous as ever and Knowing it, leaping determinately onto the surface-plane of a post-apocalyptic shit-heap of ash and steam. The familiar radioactive residue of Fletcher Munsin’s ejaculation into mighty Mother Tara still lingered all about the Surface of Her, and was a horrid stench that Lina had gotten all-too-used to.

    What a tremendous difference the air of the two separate realms bore! she marveled, thinking Inner-Earth and Surface-Earth complete opposites.

    Not long after Birthing her Bry Dellows First-born, Mother Magdalena was forced to occasionally leave the child in the care of the old mystic Al Rodnam, as she agreed with Amrita to start Bathing in Breña in Agartha to stay revitalized in the way only a Hankerhawk could. But the Mother couldn’t shake the feeling that Al Rodnam somehow knew what she and her pet were doing. Upon returning to Surface-Earth after her First Bath, she was dumbstruck to find that her baby boy had all grown up. It wasn’t long after that, that the Mother came on to him with only small discomfort, his reaction surprisingly accepting.

    Mother and pet were starting to notice that time on Surface-Earth seemed to speed-up while they were away; indeed, for every 28 minutes they spent inside the Inner-Earth, several decades will have spanned the length of that same time on Surface-Earth. Amrita explained it to her as she saw it, while noting at the same time that it was her “educated guess.”

    “Exactly how ‘educated’ are you, Rita?” the Mother would ask suspiciously, in all seriousness. “Any more so since you were a robot-cat?”

    The snake would always respond jokingly.




    So it was that Magdalena then Saw the child she had produced with her First-Born son also age dramatically during the next time she was away in Agartha with Amrita, just as her First-Born had. She made use of the transformation and seduced him as well, just as Al Rodnam had instructed her, and with surprising ease, finding a way to save some of his special semen in another magical crystal-glass vial he had given her. From there forward, each time the Mother returned to Bry Dellows from the portal at the edge of the Hollow, she would selfishly insert either her First-Born or Second-Born’s Sirian Space Crystal-preserved semen into her body, almost in spite. And, then she would play the waiting game. Throughout the following 28 days, before she would need to go visit Breña again to stay young and beautiful, Magdalena will have gone through another whole productive cycle of gestation, being able to miraculously birth out a new child each month, for each Moon, and then see the children each aged several decades after returning from Agartha with Amrita, recharged, all the while Herself remaining forever young.

    The Mother’s time during the first few generations of Bry Dellows history was a painful One. She was almost constantly in pain from the super growth rate of each new fetus artificially, yet divinely conceived inside her. And, although she saw very little of the old man Al Rodnam, the mystic was always sure to remind her, each time he saw her, that she was supposed to be bringing people into the Earth, to repopulate, and that the fast rate at which she was now able to reproduce allowed them to do so with ease. It was what Solaria demanded, he would remind her, what the higher density fire god required of her, although she herself had no memory of receiving those demands.

    Coolest Throne Of Glass Wallpaper metatron

    It wasn’t until after a few visits more to the Inner-Earth and back again that the Mother had brought Twelve people into the world who were not all the same age, but decades apart, spanning several generations, and the Mother stayed the same age throughout it all; her sacred friendship to Amrita, and her Bathing in Breña in Agartha allowed her to stay forever young, perpetually stuck at the perfect age of 28.

    All Twelve people are Descendants of either Lina and her First-Born, or Lina and her Second-Born, not by sex, but by artificial insemination of sacred plasma-preserved sperm inside ageless Wood-incubated crystals Al Rodnam had taken from his secret Southpole Homeland. Currently, Magdalena has produced two old men, (one much older than the other) two old women, (also, one much older than the other) four young girls, and four young boys, in all. The two older men are the First and Second-Born of Magdalena while also being grandfather and father to the eight children. The two older women are their sisters.

    The Mother, with her glittering magical golden dress blazing, rounded into the main camp area with a needlessly haughty swagger upheld by her great golden sceptre in hand, where her eldest, and most separate, most beautiful daughter sat poised so enticingly without trying the least bit to look sexy, but did in a rag-suit, her Head flooding with naiveté about how immaculate, how perfect her Body and Mind were, Here, Now, Continuously, as long as she existed, and she looked as Hot as her Mother now no matter which way she straddled that filthy log beneath her. And the Mother was noticing with bewilderment that her eldest now looked no different in appearance from when she had last seen her; one of her eldest’s other sisters, who was also Lina’s daughter and sister as well, now sat old and disabled on the dirty ground on the side of the main camp, grumbling simple phrases to a handsome man in a hide skin.


    Pssst—Rita!” whispered Lina before tele-projecting into the snake’s head, “Look! Over there by the campfire. My eldest. She looks a mirror-image of me! She hasn’t appeared to age at all, while I notice even now that my latest born son has grown from a baby to a young man! And a mighty handsome one at that. How has she maintained her youth during our absence while the others have aged as expected?”

    There was brief pause from Amrita.

    “It means she’s the One, child,” the little snake replied after a moment.

    “What the hell do you mean?”

    “Your eldest daughter has revealed herself, out of all your six daughters, who are also your sisters, to be the only One with the relative genetic makeup to render her a Hankerhawk. Like the mystic said. Yes, I was expecting to see this, too. This is good.”

    It is?!” shouted Lina silently to Rita, who remained wrapped around her head, so-not innocent-looking.

    “Yes, she can come to Breña with us to slow her aging process even more. She must, to keep the family cycle growing strong.” Lina frowned at Rita. “So, My Love—the old man has told us that One of your six girls will be Chosen. She must be the first Hankerhawk of Bry Dellows other than yourself—your eldest. We must bring her to the old man at Once to begin training.”

    Look, —she’s already talking to him on the log, over there. Should we approach?” The woman peered at her eldest in the near distance beside the mystic who had just showed up— her special daughter who was more like her sister. The two were almost identical in appearance now, and it baffled Lina. It also caused her to be slightly jealous for some reason.




    Lina and Rita pulled up to where Lina’s eldest daughter was engaged in semi-serious conversation with Al Rodnam, beside a hearty hearth that blazed in the center of some encircling rune-inscribed rocks that each glowed a faint bright white. Both of them failed not to notice the pixie-dust-draped air surrounding everyone gathered at the Fire.

    Oh, wonderful! Magdalena! Amrita! I am certainly glad you two came about—I need to tell you something very important.” The old man was oddly jovial, and Lina could tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he was about to share with her what she and Rita had just discovered.

    “My Child. Your eldest: she is ready to advance to the next stage. She is the Chosen One.”

    In the near distance, Magdalena became distracted of two more of her younger daughters she had not yet seen, who, she noticed at Once, were both simply repugnant. A lot like Mandorla, she thought—a daughter she had supposedly sacredly and bizarrely given Birth to by the Pond of the Aqueous Transmission on their way over to Bry Dellows; Lina had no memory of the Birth, but witnessed it after the curious event from a recorded video on Amrita’s belly-display during Amrita’s time as a robotic “cat.” Why are all of my daughters save my eldest so hideous in appearance, while my young sons are so good-looking? the Mother thought to herself, unnerved. She saw them act retardedly as well, and dumbly fixated on pieces of silver wood with curious etchings. The silver wood looked familiar to her, and the Mother wished to question the old mystic of their origin but felt a much more pressing, unanswered question gnawing at her temporal lobe.

    Lina squinted her eyes at the old man. “Wait. How long have we been gone?” she asked, thinking it must have been decades although it felt like just a few hours to her.

    “23 years and 106 days, my Child! But I must tell you something else, sit down, will you?” The mystic, who was draped in dark, flowing robes of a curious material, held out his hand to a log beside him, then went to caress the Mother’s eldest’s shoulder—her special daughter, who was more like her sister. Al Rodnam’s Eyes remained Unseen behind a dark handkerchief tied tightly around his head. With a wizened wrinkle of his facial features, the old man looked straight at the woman who was Mother Magdalena’s perfect double and said “Yes, this One here’s very special.”

    “She must be,” the Mother vainly stated, “she looks just like me!”

    “Indeed,” said the mystic, “you two have returned right on time! I Know now that it is time to proceed to the next stage of our re-civilization.”

    “Which would be…?”

    “Well, while you were away, your doppelganger here gave birth to her Fourth and Last Son of four handsome young boys, all only years apart. I know you haven’t even met them yet, but, as Amrita here will probably remind you—”

    “—Again with Amrita?! How the hell would Amrita know anything about this strange family we’re creating here…?” The Mother thought again of her video-viewing of her forgotten Birth to Mandorla. And then, so as to conceal the words from Al Rodnam, telepathically, silently added to her pet, “Do you know more than you’re letting on, Rita? Don’t lie to me!”



    The snake, still wrapped about her pet’s head, quickly curved its neck downward and shot Lina a sly stare with bold, beaded eyes. “I only know what I told you before, Lina,” the snake silently spoke telepathically to the woman, “that I remember what Solaria had Once demanded of you while you were in a High hypnotic state after a devastating crash-landing of your silver spaceship—that we must procreate to the utmost, but for to preserve human-kind. That’s all, My Love.”

    The woman narrowed her eyes at Rita and said nothing. Then she glared at the mystic. “Go on, old man,” she pleaded, “I wish to hear what you have to say. And be straightforward with me!”

    “Of course, Mother,” spoke the old man, “…as I was saying, in order to keep our family thriving, under Solaria’s orders, the four young boys of your eldest must be castrated by you at Once, not only as a means for ritual sacrifice, but to absolutely guarantee none of them will ever reach puberty, allowing them any opportunity whatsoever to impregnate you the old-fashioned way: by having sex. And make no mistake, Magdalena; they sure as Hell will try to do so, no matter the manner of their upbringing. This little fix of our genetics I have arranged here will eventually keep more Hankerhawks Birthing into our Bry Dellows. You will Know what to do Once there are Twelve Hankerhawks.”

    Magdalena was unnerved. “What the Hell do you know that you’re not telling me, old man?! If this is indeed true, how would you come to Know such a thing?”

    The old man’s form subtley, but rapidly faded away from the Mother and her pet, only to statically return again a few seconds later with different color robes and his familiar magical, bottomless drinking gourd in his left-hand grasp.

    The old man, with an utmost serious look in his eyes, then said “there are a great deal of Sirian souls out there who Monitor the atomization of our beloved Gaia and fellow Solar System, working endlessly from afar to prolong the inevitable dissolution and obliteration of planet Urth.” Al Rodnam raised the magical drinking gourd in his hand out to the flames, which licked fiercely over the campfire with a bizarre intensity. “As do I, Magdalena, but not from afar.” He took a hearty gulp from his curious gourd and passed it to Lina. Straight-faced, she accepted it and took a drink. Although it shook her to her core with rage, Lina decided that there will always be certain things “she’s supposed to be doing,” without knowing exactly why.

    “We must now find new sustenance other than simply this precious Water, Mother, that will sustain the people of Bry Dellows for many generations to come,” Al Rodnam went on. Animal protein would be best. All we need to do is locate a single animal and I will be able to duplicate it as many times as needed! Then I can engineer a self-sustaining animal farm that our lowly Loombugs can tend to. I was told to do this.”

    Magdalena mockingly glanced quickly left and right, then said, “Have you seen any other animals or anything else alive at all since we arrived here, however long ago it was?! Because I sure as hell haven’t!”

    When the Mother turned to look directly at the old man, she found that the handkerchief he always wore had become mysteriously unwrapped from his eyes, the two of them staring back at Her bleakly. The Mother shook off the forceful shiver that so suddenly took ahold of her. Then the old man was staring just above her eyes, into her living serpent crown, an animal who also happened to be Magdalena’s best friend. “That’s not entirely true, Lina,” the old man stated simply.

    “What—Amrita? You wish to kill my best friend and continue to feed our family with her? How is that even possible? Poor thing!”




    “Don’t be silly, Lina. Of course not. But I have a feeling your good ol’ friend there may Know where to find food. We three alone may not need to eat food all the time in order to keep our bodies and minds functioning, but our tribe will.”

    Magdalena immediately ripped down her pet crown of whom she was becoming quite suspicious, held her friend firmly in front of her face, and just glared at the reptile, silently demanding unspoken answers. When Amrita did not respond, the incensed Mother, while still staring at her pet of whom she kept a firm grip, begged aloud of Al Rodnam why he would suggest that Amrita would know where to find food. But when he, too, made no reply, an irritated Magdalena turned to face him, but the old man was no longer there. NEXT: MOTHER MAGDALENA AND HER PET FIND AN ANIMAL!


    This post has been an excerpt from the previously unpublished sequel to MIKE EYE’S BIZARRE THE AQUEOUS TRANSMISSION, not yet available!