shades for Pres(id)ent: the occultik conwo/man rises




...so let's play the game. 

the only game there is, was, ever will be. 



forever & ever Amen. 



the game of which magician gets to decide what the world should look like, Bb..








Sanity and resolve between the trenches of love and hate.


  And death

The soul thaws.

Beneath the skin.

Something within.

Scouring sand for tracks of hand,

A look, for any nook.

The symbol behind your mask slithers from sun.

Every sword is a stone.

The shadow is a physiological response to phenomenon. 

All unconscious archetypes are digestive coping mecha isms.

The self is a psychological response to phenomenon. 

It creates a story so as not to float away into what we perceive as endless chaotic oblivion.

We are digested, regressed and anticipated perceptions.

And while we catalogue who we are, the soul floats through unannounced




A Disney prince

The grandest since


Columbus controlled

The dream he sold


4 the s(k)ins



S l av es



Lo s t





T o










 ..you gnow, in the course of my recent research I studied some of the og gnostic texts, & they're very clear in positing that reality itself is a con..& if this be the case, then the only authentic response to it is as an occultick conwo/man.a psychonautic pirate; an esoterical gangster..
 ..& just which part of the con frontation with the shadow do you have a problem with, again..? ..cuz u real lies that's the whole point, right..?..& that that's actually a (proven & effective) therapeutic methodology..?
..shades, thus named because he embodied all the darkest desires of huwomanity in one place (a psychic realm gnown to those few who were consciously familiar with it as the 'transcendental id') awoke from his flashback within a flashback with a start...

..as he did, the (as I'm sure you'll agree) disturbing but also soothing realization dawned upon him that he'd been awakened from his aeons-long slumber to preside over the end of the world as it had been until then known..
"...if I'm here", he thought with that mixed feeling of elation and sheer animal fear you get when you're doing something wrong but you're enjoying it, "then the end is near/almost hear....."
"..if I'm here, then the transcision between the end of this tired charade, & the dawn of the new age has @LL ready begun..."



The fact that nature follows laws capable of being formulated in the human descriptive language called mathematics, the unreasonable effectiveness thereof, is not surprising to anyone versed in the occult study of existence. It reflects the understanding thereby had that the world is predominantly mental, and thus it is without course certain to follow what may be called laws of thought. The unitary self consistency of reality finds partial description in the various mathematical universes based on axiomatic assumptions and the necessary consequences of the relations between those assumptions, or radical thoughts. These rules of logic have built out structures in human edifice that have become entirely new worlds for the humans enmeshed in the consequences of the technical devices that are unloosed in the collective psyche - agriculture, ship building, the industrial revolution, the Information age. These are not just superficial changes of incidentals to the human condition but fundamentally reorder the notion of what it means to be a hairless ape; they unfold, requiring living in new ways, lanes of life, that if not followed lead to the regressive descent into irrelevant obscurity in the darkness of thought that preceded our emergence from animal existence - and we all know what we humans do to animals.


Since the world follows what are the logical dictates of thought, and since these can be formulated in symbolic language as mathematical trees seeded by certain base notions, it leads us to the question of the predicates of our own existence, and the structure of our perceiving and directive minds. What are those seed thoughts that lead to us being in this place, at this time, as conscious active entities capable of directing the metamorphosis not only of ourselves, but of the world that is made up of those living units akin to our own being. To approach this question we must delve into the inner recesses of our memories, those shrunken pictures that give us the ideas of ourselves as a continuity in the relentless flux of, I shouldn’t say time, but experience. The present moment may be regarded in different ways, but for the sake of illustration we should think of it much as the average Homo sapiens does and independent of space: as part of a sequence with a real past and an unrealized future. In such consideration, each existence is at every moment an entire record of (its’) preceding existence. This applies not only to the obvious cases of the material objects such as, for instance, a chair, which has been assembled somewhere by someone after the colocation of materials that have also been assembled and prepared somewhere by someone, and so on; but also, those objects of cognition as thoughts, and words, and all the social superstructure spread over the human mind like a sometimes smothering



Words in particular, and the ideas they represent, or the sounds and figures in which those thoughts and notions are chiseled from the mass of all mind, have peculiar histories as evinced by their transformations as revealed by etymological dictionaries. A single word holds within its utterance an entire sequence of thoughts and forms that have culminated in that particular meaning for that particular sound at that particular time. But the attainment to the use of language is, with every growing newborn, an individual accomplishment - of course conditioned by their social environment. To step back in our experience to the furthest reaches, we must gradually strip away the veneer of our mother tongue, always at first an aural understanding, an acoustic logic, and come to a more unmediated, unfiltered, experience. In that process we approach, at first, the roots of our language and those atomic, radical ideas that have been combined into entire worlds. And we, at the same time, approach our first experiences of being human: our family, mother, father and siblings; light and dark, color, hunger and satiety, warmth and cold - the experience of breath - and their emotive consequences. But further, we regress to that catastrophic birth event where we first emerged from our weightless aquatic existence into the world of gravity and inhaled the first breath of life. Even before then, we were alive in our mother’s womb, and in whatever experiences attend to the prenatal life we must look for the base of the logic of our own individual human existence, if not the whole of existence itself.




.. I never much cared for fortune or fame; success per se..perhaps that's how come they found it easy to find me.. I wasn't out looking for them..

listen to the sounds between the sounds & the sounds

..& so, to keep things interesting between the end & the beginning, shades sent out a psychic challenge..& it went a little something like this,

"..& you, who claim affiliation with & good standing in our we were never (w)here order, what have you con tributed to the Authentic Tradition, whatev the f that is..

..what do you have to offer the children of the new aeon other than some stupid arbitrary rules, & some trumped-up trinkets; shady, shoddy merch that fails even as wish-fulfilmeant ..?
..& how many have you guided to the Gnosis; you who are incapable of guiding even your selves to a tomorrow that is brighter(?) ..nay, even different in any way, from today..

..hey, let's play a game. step up, put your whatever you got if anything where your mouth is & challenge me to a game..of who's to blame, & who to shame, & who's insane, & who's inane, & who was once, has @LLways been, & was ever intended to be, the one true king..

..say, let's play a game..so let's play the game..


..f, man, I just do this to get my girl wet. shit..

(produced, arranged, composed & performed by Legba Lodge)