Illustration, Writing in Theory & Practice on December 4, 2013 by cairnwood
And coming soon —
I have always had a talent for working under pressure, to the point that without chaos surrounding me I tend to struggle a bit with focus. Chaos demands a clarity of purpose and intent.
I am currently editing three novels and a short story collection, writing an endcap to not one, but two ongoing book series, illustrating a project for Backburner Press, orchestrating a role-playing campaign, collecting material for an rpg project, and am nose deep into various other odds and ends too numerous (and esoteric) to mention. I have a mountainous stack of books that need reviewed and I just agreed to take part in a top secret mult-media project.
Oh, and I’m trying to put together a mini-con for the end of January.
You know that old saying about burning a candle at both ends? Well, someone’s lit it in the middle.
Chaos. Yep, I’m in the bloody eye of it.
And speaking of bloody eye, before I hurl myself once more into the abyss, I will share with you my latest commission piece, something done pro bono for some Odinist friends of mine.
And coming soon —
the 2013 Occult Detective Awards.
Esoterica on November 29, 2013 by cairnwood
Have Imagination, Will Travel
Comics on November 27, 2013 by cairnwood
Writing in Theory & Practice on November 21, 2013 by cairnwood
Illustration on November 19, 2013 by cairnwood
Esoterica on November 18, 2013 by cairnwood
Happy 60th Birthday, Alan Moore
Fossil Angels by Alan Moore — Regard the world of magic. A scattering of occult orders which, when not attempting to disprove each other’s provenance, are either cryogenically suspended in their ritual rut, their game of Aiwaz Says, or else seem lost in some Dungeons & Dragons sprawl of channelled spam, off mapping some unfalsifiable and thus completely valueless new universe before they’ve demonstrated that they have so much as a black-lacquered fingernail’s grip on the old one. Self-consciously weird transmissions from Tourette’s-afflicted entities, from glossolalic Hammer horrors. Fritzed-out scrying bowls somehow receiving trailers from the Sci-Fi channel. Far too many secret chiefs, and, for that matter, far too many secret indians.
Beyond this, past the creaking gates of the illustrious societies, dilapidated fifty-year-old follies where they start out with the plans for a celestial palace but inevitably end up with the Bates Motel, outside this there extends the mob. The psyche pikeys. Incoherent roar of our hermetic home-crowd, the Akashic anoraks, the would-be wiccans and Temple uv Psychic Forty-Somethings queuing up with pre-teens for the latest franchised fairyland, realm of the irretrievably hobbituated. Pottersville.
Exactly how does this confirm an aeon of Horus, aeon of anything except more Skinner-box consumerism, gangster statecraft, mind-to-the-grindstone materialism? Is what seems almost universal knee-jerk acquiescence to conservative ideals truly a sign of rampant Theleme? Is Cthulhu coming back, like, anytime soon, or are the barbarous curses from the outer dark those of Illuminists trying to find their arses with a flashlight? Has contemporary western occultism accomplished anything that is measurable outside the séance parlour? Is magic of any definable use to the human race other than offering an opportunity for dressing up? Tantric tarts and vicars at Thelemic theme nights. Pentagrams In Their Eyes. “Tonight, Matthew, I will be the Logos of the Aeon.” Has magic demonstrated a purpose, justified its existence in the way that art or science or agriculture justify their own? In short, does anyone have the first clue what we are doing, or precisely why we’re doing it?
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