Friday, September 28, 2012

Where The Buffalo Roam.... The Lakota, the Buffalo Field Campaign, and the Return of the White Buffalo

[Check out some of the books, albums, and soon movies produced by Mythos Media and our various media partners.]

“Only when the last tree has died,
 the last river been poisoned,
 and the last fish been caught
 will we realize we cannot eat money. ” -Cree Indian proverb 

"They made us many promises, more than I can remember, but they never kept one; they promised not to take our land, and they did." - Mahpiua Luta "Red Cloud" Oglala Lakota

You can feel the poisoned earth, bottled up and ready to explode. There is no questioning it. You can feel the anger of every poisoned tree, flower, wolf, and bison. You can feel the strangled roots of Mother Gaia rising up through the cracks in the concrete. We have raped her, stripped her of her resources, and broken and bound her with our barriers and walls and fences. We have sullied and tarnished her with toxic wastes and carbon emissions. We dump the excrement of our civilization into her rivers. We have tarnished her wildlife with our city streets and our pavement. Slowly, but surely, the woodlands turn to concrete. In the name of Progress, we destroy our own back yards. We have sold our children's children out forever. There may be no "seven generations from now," anymore. We are on the eve of destruction, and it has been brought on by our own hands.

Before the meat that you eat is slaughtered, the animals that end up as your dinner are squeezed into a compact and overcrowded area of demolished forest, herded together and packed in wall to wall. They are fed on the excrement and remains of other animals, and they are made sickly and feeble. They are shot with man-made growth hormones and chemicals, toxins that no human should consume. They are thoroughly poisoned, a decision that is overseen and supervised by our Commander In Chief, who in his infinite wisdom has seen it fit to appoint the former vice president of Monsanto to the position of senior advisor to the commissioner of the FDA. And now, media mogul and founder of CNN Ted Turner has struck a deal with the Montana department of wildlife: In return for providing a ranch on which to "quarantine" Yellowstone buffalo, Ted will be paid in bison to stock his "Ted's Montana Grill" restaurant chain. Cha ching.

We are told that we are free. 

We are not free. We are those cattle. We are being fattened for the slaughter.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Internal Arts and Meditation

A blog has been created to document and share the process of inner exploration, from MM and CAS alum Sasha Lee. Enjoy.

[Check out some of the books, albums, and soon movies produced by Mythos Media and our various media partners.]

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Diviner of Death/Rebirth: The 2nd Pluto/Uranus Square

I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.

-Herman Hesse

The wounded dervish spills forth sunlight from the cracks in his skull; an illumined teaching follows the maddened philosopher. Those closest hear his subtle screams, granting themselves a glimpse into the changes to come:

The Young Jackal communes with Osiris, the Lord of the Underworld, newly appointed to assist the great transformations of our time. The portal has been opened, intentions fleeing from wandering souls as seeds in the wind. 

"The paradigm has shifted," the Lord proclaims. "I may not be who you remember, but I am the same destructive vessel."

With that, he plunges his scepter--the Diviner of Death--into the crippled earth, and the ground cracks open as lightning reaches across the sky. Thousands of dead souls wait for his bidding.

As the earth shifts, a chasm forms, and two sides stand at the precipice, their battle to ensue the fate of the dimensional worlds. The Dark Mother, ever hidden and mysterious, sends her children to the Diviner, demons writhing to answer the call to arms, worthy assists in the deconstruction of prolonged reality.

The veiled empress, Nephthys, blooming forth as a milky-white lotus--emerging from the womb of mothers, harbinger of oceans--stands not far from her royal brethren, at odds with an orphaned animal, Absolus. He waits at the square, his mind poised, split in half at the advent of change, ready to oppose, challenge, and deploy constraint. The beast cannot be reasoned with.

On Earth, we busy ourselves with restrictions of the mind, law, and power. Elected officials--

"Hold," Saturn boldly warn as a jolting storm clouds the vision, streaming from an opened Vortex. His voice resonates across the galaxy as an expansive om, reminding us to listen, and when it is to keep silent.

Yet again: the Wounded Healer spills light from crevices atop his head; a sharp education comes forth from the wizened teacher. Nearby, we hear faint cries, giving all the grasp to understand.

The crippled centaur takes council with Pluto, Ruler of the Great Void, the long watcher of our struggling efforts to heal and evolve. The portals opened, all worlds reverberate with one another, answering the great call of alignment.

"Something has shifted," Pluto remarks. "The perspective has changed. Old is new, and the Earth strives for regeneration."

At once, he raises his rod--the Diviner of Rebirth--toward the rippling sky, and lightning erupts from the apex as the ground trembles in response. Heralding from the higher dimensions, thousands of spirits wait for his instruction.

The sky is charged with purpose, and two halves stand on either precipice, the onslaught to determine the faith of the dimensional worlds. The Ill Witch, demanding and outspoken, writhes as her children cling to the Diviner, purging their ghastly souls from further torment, charging the rod with raw power. Their unworldly existence heeds to the necessity of balance.

The Sleeping Giant, Neptune, rising from churning waves--floating forward from the waters of Life, the arbiter of Creation--stands nearby his destined brother, locked in gaze with the lost practitioner, Absolus. They wait at the square, ever deliberate to conquer the other with war-torn methods, buried by destruction. The generals are unmatched in clarity.

On Earth, we seek through the mystic. As the worlds shift into balance, primal symbiotic selves yearn for egoic sustenance, and beg for what is normal, healthy, and stable.

"You have little of my Borrowed Time," Saturn states, knowing that he too will soon be sucked into the swirling Vortex of All-Worlds. "Once I enter the Great Void, and take upon my brother's armor, it will be through the inner worlds that you receive my foundation."

The ecliptics call eternal alignment with Earth's vibrational fields, and the Sacred Mirror approaches Pluto's grasp. "Allow my forces to rebuild your world," he professes. "My shadows precede the light, exposing that which will take shape. Take shelter within the coming darkness, and you will be born anew.

The Diviner of Death/Rebirth reaches completion, amassing eternal cycles unknown even to ancient stars, acclimating the charged flames of an activated Uranus--the uncompromising shatterer of boundaries--to destroy what no longer serves, and rebuild the Story of Man.

[Check out some of the books, albums, and soon movies produced by Mythos Media and our various media partners.]

Monday, September 17, 2012

Participants Wanted for the Transmedia Revolution!

Hello everyone!

For those of you who have been following my posts here for the last few months, you may have noticed I've been talking a lot about how technology has transformed the publishing industry, and how transmedia storytelling has broken down the barriers between a story and it's audience.

But I haven't really gone into the specifics about how this can be put into practice. There's been a lot of talk about transmedia storytelling, but very few good examples of what the medium is truly capable of.  People and publishers have folded their arms, and decided to "wait and see."

And I don't blame them.  

After all the talk about ground breaking-this, cross platform-that, and immersion-everything, not much has really happened, has it?  There's been a lot of smoke, but no one has lit a match.  

That's about to change.  It won't be long before you'll be participating in a story instead of reading it.  How do I know?

I'm going to help make it happen.

Do I have some amazing new browser plug-in?  Some sort of new transmedia authoring platform?  A storytelling social media network, perhaps?

Nope.  (People always seem to get hung up on the technology...)

The technology of the written word changed how stories were delivered, but not how they were created.  It's the same thing with e-books, film, and television...they are all different methods of delivering the same fictional drug.

It's the story that's important.

What's the difference between slapping a button on a coke machine, and visiting a barista at your local starbucks?

Puff the magic dragon by Ahnamal
A can of soda will always taste the same.  A caramel-pumpkin-spice-mocha-latte with a dash of cinnamon and whip, tastes a lot different if you have him add a splash of pickle juice.

There's only one way to have it your way: ask for it.

Here at Modern Mythology, we know that storytelling isn’t passive.

A good storyteller must actively engage their audience.  A story should be tailored to whom it’s being told to, not diluted and homogenized just to make it more appealing to a potential audience of millions.

The goal of a story should be to make people think, feel, and help them blink away their pedestrian view of the world.  A book or movie should draw you in, engage you, make you a part of it--not run you over.

Films shouldn't blind people with cinematic eye candy, and books shouldn't hypnotize them with pages of sex and violence strung together with a meaningless plot.

But they do, and they will continue to do so, because that's the easiest way for Hollywood and publishers to get your money without you noticing.

It doesn't have to be this way.  Really.

(Unless you're into that kind of thing.)

Friday, September 14, 2012

Little Steps Towards Personal Truth, pt. 1

"Kether is in Malkuth. And Malkuth is in Kether, but after another motherfucker." - William Clark

Before I explain to you what that means, I'd like to preface this deviation from my recent political meanderings with an apology. I fully realize that most people are put off by terminology like "occultism", "Hermeticism", or "magic(k)". I will try to remedy this prejudice by making all of my personal examples as clear and concise as I can. As with everything, your mileage may vary. Given that a personal foray into the murky realms of Western Esotericism, alternative psychology, and general semantics is more in keeping with the general workflow of this site than others, it isn't entirely out of place. But I am fully aware of the risk this poses to the overall sociopolitical agenda I have been working towards in the last few months. I could potentially alienate people from me by talking about this. The tendency for the overwhelming amount of humanity is to fear that which they do not understand, and that is unavoidable. There is, as the theologist Alan Watts once argued, a strong societal taboo against knowing one's self.

So be it.

I am a magician. I have been for at least a decade now. I will be coming up on my 26th birthday in 2013. I have been formally crashing my way through the harrowing, awe inspiring and sometimes frustrating world of the occult since I was 16 years old. It is a rewarding path, and I have found it to be ultimately responsible for jumpstarting much of my personal growth as an individual. When I look back on the larval state of my entire being at that tender young age, some of the stupid blunders and mistakes I have made (and often continue to make) are greatly humbling. I owe much of the progress I have made from a clueless, morbidly self-obsessed and disaffected suburban kid into a self-actualized creative person to the serious work I have done with self-integration and individuation: A four-fold process of personal evolution that is psychological, spiritual, physical and psychic in nature. In addition to this, I have come to learn that the universe itself provides the initiatory catalysts, the teachers, and the guides that we need. But only when we are ready for it. "Ask, and ye shall receive. Seek, and ye shall find." The teacher comes when the student is ready.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Just 2 Days Remain before Limited Editions are Gone.

If you want to donate and receive one of the limited editions of Words of Traitors: 7 Lives In Transition you have until Saturday September 15th to receive one of the limited editions. This will be the only run available to the public for a little while. (Public release will occur when we've found the right gallery for a release party and made some distribution partnerships. Possibly 2013.)
  • The limited edition greyscale soft-cover (A4 large format) can be acquired for $25.
  • The limited edition full-color soft-cover (A4 large format) can be acquired for $50.
  • The limited edition full-color hard-covers (8"x10" large format) are being reduced to $75. 
This is a limited run of a full color art book -- thus the prices. 
All come with a free full color PDF. You must provide your email and mailing address. 
Use this link, if this code doesn't work for you. 

[Check out some of the books, albums, and soon movies produced by Mythos Media and our various media partners.]

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

A Disconcerting Concerto - Animus & Anima in Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto, by Guido Mina di Sospiro

Archduke Rudolf of Austria (1788–1831)
Said to be the inspiration for
Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 5
Musicologists maintain that, in the history of classical music, the symphony and the sonata are the more ambitious form of composition. In effect, the concerto for one or more instruments and orchestra is inevitably more theatrical, often promoting, rather than music per se, vacuous virtuosity. But Beethoven’s “Emperor” concerto for piano and orchestra elevates the generally facile juxtaposition between soloist and orchestra to an accomplished integration of Animus and Anima, sun and moon, the two opposing elements of the universe.

The following should encourage the reader to go back to the source, i.e., the concerto itself, whether it be the first time you listen to it, or the umpteenth. The tone throughout is impetuously passionate—and so be it!

Beethoven’s Klavierkonzert No. 5 [Piano Concerto No. 5 in E flat major Op. 73 (“Emperor”)] is the prototype of concerting perfection. The orchestra being the woman; the piano, the man; their music together, lovemaking.

What does concert mean anyway? From Italian concerto, from Old Italian, agreement, harmony, possibly from Late Latin concertus, past participle of con-cernere, to mingle together. Later attempts of less gifted composers pale in comparison; some are actually laughable, especially Tchaikovsky’s first, swashbuckling but histrionic and hollow. The solo instrument struggling against the orchestra; the orchestra trying to drown the soloist in jumbled fortissimi. Male and female at odds with one another, brawling in public!

To return to the Emperor...

Sunday, September 02, 2012

Portland Trimet Rapes The Poor

[Check out some of the books, albums, and soon movies produced by Mythos Media and our various media partners.]

"Pack The Max!" public demonstration, Portland, OR 9/1/2012

“One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.” -Plato

I walked to the 5 star Hilton resort after today's action in an attempt to write this entry with no time constraints. The air conditioning there is better than at the public library in downtown Portland, and all things considered the half hour to an hour time limit on the computers at the library are pesky when you actually have something to say. I got in through the front door past the doorman, which I viewed as at least a partial success considering that with a five o' clock shadow, bloodshot eyes and a t-shirt reading "10 WAYS TO PISS OFF A COP," I thought they would have stopped me there. So far, so good.

There were a number of suits circulating throughout the lobby there in what looked like some sort of business convention. I moseyed over to a computer and sat at it, meaning to log on to the internet to publish this piece. The screen informed me that, given no access code from the front desk, I would need to swipe a major credit card and pay to the tune of 40 cents a minute for internet access. This clearly would not do.

I stepped up to the concierge then, and cleared my throat assertively. "EXCUSE ME, Miss. I need the access code for your computer, immediately."

She smiled awkwardly. "Are you a guest, sir?"

"No, but I am a very well-respected and well known member of the Portland community."

"Well, what do you need to use the computer for?"

"I'm a writer, you see. I am paid by a certain special interest group. I recently attended the Republican National Convention, and I have to write a very important piece by a deadline today. My assistant, who is unfortunately not with me at the moment, lost my laptop during a rushed last-minute official business procedure of sorts... And it is ABSOLUTELY IMPERATIVE that this article is written by 6:00 PM, Pacific Time today. I am, after all, a professional...."


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