Creature in the Sonic Liquid

"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."
--H. P. Lovecraft

Nice Little Video About Cannibals

Black Eyed Children

There’s something wrong with these children.
They approach quietly, yet boldly. They’re young, usually teens or slightly younger. They insist on coming inside your house to use the bathroom, the telephone or just for a drink of water. But for some reason you’re afraid. Why? They’re just kids. Then you notice their eyes – black, as if the pupil had poured over its banks. You don’t let them in – or do you?
Black-eyed kids. The term has floated across cyberspace since Jan. 16, 1998 when journalist Brian Bethel first posted his chilling encounter with overly-lucid children whose eyes were coal black; not a hint of iris, nor white.
And they scared the hell out of him.
The existence of these children has since become an Internet urban legend, but is it really just that? Maybe not.

Below is a story of black-eyed kids from an anonymous reader of “From the Shadows.” I’ll call him “Bill.”
Bill was driving through Afton, Okla., a town in the northwestern part of the state on historic Route 66 just south of the Will Rogers Turnpike, when he stopped to see some old friends.
“I saw they had a new dog; a very stout dachshund,” Bill said. “I asked them about it and Michael said, ‘The weird kids left her when they left town.’”
Bill asked Michael and his wife about these “weird kids.” They told him a group of young people had knocked on their door and begged to come in and talk. The “weird kids” were driving an old van, but Michael thought it was in good shape because it didn't make noise.
“However, he and his wife felt uneasy and didn't let them in,” Bill said. A few of the kids left the van and walked the dachshund Michael and his wife ended up with. “But they didn’t seem too attached to (the dog).”
Bill asked Michael if these young people were Mormons.
“Hell, no,” Michael said. “They didn't dress right and they were junkies."
"Junkies?" Bill asked.
"Yeah,” Michael said. “Their pupils were huge."
The kids’ eyes were solid black. Looking into their eyes was like staring into a void.
Turned away at the door, the black-eyed kids eventually left, to the relief of Michael and his wife. Some time later, Michael saw the dachshund wandering around town, felt sorry for it, and brought it home. Michael and his wife are thankful the black-eyed kids never returned for it.

Michael’s story has disturbed Bill ever since. “ (Jan. 18), a friend was talking about dark forces on the move and mentioned black-eyed kids,” Bill said. “I Googled it and a chill went up my spine.” Bill contacted Michael about the information he’d found on these entities, but, like many who’ve encountered these black-eyed kids, Michael and his wife just want to forget meeting them. Their experience was terrifying. “They don't want anything to do with an investigation,” Bill said, “or have their name made public, or really have anything to do with any further conversation about black-eyed kids.”

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Haunted Myrtle Hill Cemetery (EVPs)

The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe

FOR the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet, mad am I not - and very surely do I not dream. But to-morrow I die, and to-day I would unburthen my soul. My immediate purpose is to place before the world, plainly, succinctly, and without comment, a series of mere household events. In their consequences, these events have terrified - have tortured - have destroyed me. Yet I will not attempt to expound them. To me, they have presented little but Horror - to many they will seem less terrible than barroques. Hereafter, perhaps, some intellect may be found which will reduce my phantasm to the common-place - some intellect more calm, more logical, and far less excitable than my own, which will perceive, in the circumstances I detail with awe, nothing more than an ordinary succession of very natural causes and effects.
From my infancy I was noted for the docility and humanity of my disposition. My tenderness of heart was even so conspicuous as to make me the jest of my companions. I was especially fond of animals, and was indulged by my parents with a great variety of pets. With these I spent most of my time, and never was so happy as when feeding and caressing them. This peculiarity of character grew with my growth, and in my manhood, I derived from it one of my principal sources of pleasure. To those who have cherished an affection for a faithful and sagacious dog, I need hardly be at the trouble of explaining the nature or the intensity of the gratification thus derivable. There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute, which goes directly to the heart of him who has had frequent occasion to test the paltry friendship and gossamer fidelity of mere Man .
I married early, and was happy to find in my wife a disposition not uncongenial with my own. Observing my partiality for domestic pets, she lost no opportunity of procuring those of the most agreeable kind. We had birds, gold-fish, a fine dog, rabbits, a small monkey, and a cat .
This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree. In speaking of his intelligence, my wife, who at heart was not a little tinctured with superstition, made frequent allusion to the ancient popular notion, which regarded all black cats as witches in disguise. Not that she was ever serious upon this point - and I mention the matter at all for no better reason than that it happens, just now, to be remembered.
Pluto - this was the cat's name - was my favorite pet and playmate. I alone fed him, and he attended me wherever I went about the house. It was even with difficulty that I could prevent him from following me through the streets.
Our friendship lasted, in this manner, for several years, during which my general temperament and character - through the instrumentality of the Fiend Intemperance - had (I blush to confess it) experienced a radical alteration for the worse. I grew, day by day, more moody, more irritable, more regardless of the feelings of others. I suffered myself to use intemperate language to my wife. At length, I even offered her personal violence. My pets, of course, were made to feel the change in my disposition. I not only neglected, but ill-used them. For Pluto, however, I still retained sufficient regard to restrain me from maltreating him, as I made no scruple of maltreating the rabbits, the monkey, or even the dog, when by accident, or through affection, they came in my way. But my disease grew upon me - for what disease is like Alcohol! - and at length even Pluto, who was now becoming old, and consequently somewhat peevish - even Pluto began to experience the effects of my ill temper.
One night, returning home, much intoxicated, from one of my haunts about town, I fancied that the cat avoided my presence. I seized him; when, in his fright at my violence, he inflicted a slight wound upon my hand with his teeth. The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my frame. I took from my waistcoat-pocket a pen-knife, opened it, grasped the poor beast by the throat, and deliberately cut one of its eyes from the socket! I blush, I burn, I shudder, while I pen the damnable atrocity.
When reason returned with the morning - when I had slept off the fumes of the night's debauch - I experienced a sentiment half of horror, half of remorse, for the crime of which I had been guilty; but it was, at best, a feeble and equivocal feeling, and the soul remained untouched. I again plunged into excess, and soon drowned in wine all memory of the deed.
In the meantime the cat slowly recovered. The socket of the lost eye presented, it is true, a frightful appearance, but he no longer appeared to suffer any pain. He went about the house as usual, but, as might be expected, fled in extreme terror at my approach. I had so much of my old heart left, as to be at first grieved by this evident dislike on the part of a creature which had once so loved me. But this feeling soon gave place to irritation. And then came, as if to my final and irrevocable overthrow, the spirit of PERVERSENESS. Of this spirit philosophy takes no account. Yet I am not more sure that my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive impulses of the human heart - one of the indivisible primary faculties, or sentiments, which give direction to the character of Man. Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or a silly action, for no other reason than because he knows he should not? Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best judgment, to violate that which is Law , merely because we understand it to be such? This spirit of perverseness, I say, came to my final overthrow. It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself - to offer violence to its own nature - to do wrong for the wrong's sake only - that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute. One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree; - hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart; - hung it because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence; - hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin - a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it - if such a thing wore possible - even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible God.
On the night of the day on which this cruel deed was done, I was aroused from sleep by the cry of fire. The curtains of my bed were in flames. The whole house was blazing. It was with great difficulty that my wife, a servant, and myself, made our escape from the conflagration. The destruction was complete. My entire worldly wealth was swallowed up, and I resigned myself thenceforward to despair.
I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of cause and effect, between the disaster and the atrocity. But I am detailing a chain of facts - and wish not to leave even a possible link imperfect. On the day succeeding the fire, I visited the ruins. The walls, with one exception, had fallen in. This exception was found in a compartment wall, not very thick, which stood about the middle of the house, and against which had rested the head of my bed. The plastering had here, in great measure, resisted the action of the fire - a fact which I attributed to its having been recently spread. About this wall a dense crowd were collected, and many persons seemed to be examining a particular portion of it with very minute and eager attention. The words "strange!" "singular!" and other similar expressions, excited my curiosity. I approached and saw, as if graven in bas relief upon the white surface, the figure of a gigantic cat. The impression was given with an accuracy truly marvellous. There was a rope about the animal's neck.
When I first beheld this apparition - for I could scarcely regard it as less - my wonder and my terror were extreme. But at length reflection came to my aid. The cat, I remembered, had been hung in a garden adjacent to the house. Upon the alarm of fire, this garden had been immediately filled by the crowd - by some one of whom the animal must have been cut from the tree and thrown, through an open window, into my chamber. This had probably been done with the view of arousing me from sleep. The falling of other walls had compressed the victim of my cruelty into the substance of the freshly-spread plaster; the lime of which, with the flames, and the ammonia from the carcass, had then accomplished the portraiture as I saw it.
Although I thus readily accounted to my reason, if not altogether to my conscience, for the startling fact just detailed, it did not the less fail to make a deep impression upon my fancy. For months I could not rid myself of the phantasm of the cat; and, during this period, there came back into my spirit a half-sentiment that seemed, but was not, remorse. I went so far as to regret the loss of the animal, and to look about me, among the vile haunts which I now habitually frequented, for another pet of the same species, and of somewhat similar appearance, with which to supply its place.
One night as I sat, half stupified, in a den of more than infamy, my attention was suddenly drawn to some black object, reposing upon the head of one of the immense hogsheads of Gin, or of Rum, which constituted the chief furniture of the apartment. I had been looking steadily at the top of this hogshead for some minutes, and what now caused me surprise was the fact that I had not sooner perceived the object thereupon. I approached it, and touched it with my hand. It was a black cat - a very large one - fully as large as Pluto, and closely resembling him in every respect but one. Pluto had not a white hair upon any portion of his body; but this cat had a large, although indefinite splotch of white, covering nearly the whole region of the breast. Upon my touching him, he immediately arose, purred loudly, rubbed against my hand, and appeared delighted with my notice. This, then, was the very creature of which I was in search. I at once offered to purchase it of the landlord; but this person made no claim to it - knew nothing of it - had never seen it before.
I continued my caresses, and, when I prepared to go home, the animal evinced a disposition to accompany me. I permitted it to do so; occasionally stooping and patting it as I proceeded. When it reached the house it domesticated itself at once, and became immediately a great favorite with my wife.
For my own part, I soon found a dislike to it arising within me. This was just the reverse of what I had anticipated; but - I know not how or why it was - its evident fondness for myself rather disgusted and annoyed. By slow degrees, these feelings of disgust and annoyance rose into the bitterness of hatred. I avoided the creature; a certain sense of shame, and the remembrance of my former deed of cruelty, preventing me from physically abusing it. I did not, for some weeks, strike, or otherwise violently ill use it; but gradually - very gradually - I came to look upon it with unutterable loathing, and to flee silently from its odious presence, as from the breath of a pestilence.
What added, no doubt, to my hatred of the beast, was the discovery, on the morning after I brought it home, that, like Pluto, it also had been deprived of one of its eyes. This circumstance, however, only endeared it to my wife, who, as I have already said, possessed, in a high degree, that humanity of feeling which had once been my distinguishing trait, and the source of many of my simplest and purest pleasures.
With my aversion to this cat, however, its partiality for myself seemed to increase. It followed my footsteps with a pertinacity which it would be difficult to make the reader comprehend. Whenever I sat, it would crouch beneath my chair, or spring upon my knees, covering me with its loathsome caresses. If I arose to walk it would get between my feet and thus nearly throw me down, or, fastening its long and sharp claws in my dress, clamber, in this manner, to my breast. At such times, although I longed to destroy it with a blow, I was yet withheld from so doing, partly by a memory of my former crime, but chiefly - let me confess it at once - by absolute dread of the beast.
This dread was not exactly a dread of physical evil - and yet I should be at a loss how otherwise to define it. I am almost ashamed to own - yes, even in this felon's cell, I am almost ashamed to own - that the terror and horror with which the animal inspired me, had been heightened by one of the merest chimaeras it would be possible to conceive. My wife had called my attention, more than once, to the character of the mark of white hair, of which I have spoken, and which constituted the sole visible difference between the strange beast and the one I had destroyed. The reader will remember that this mark, although large, had been originally very indefinite; but, by slow degrees - degrees nearly imperceptible, and which for a long time my Reason struggled to reject as fanciful - it had, at length, assumed a rigorous distinctness of outline. It was now the representation of an object that I shudder to name - and for this, above all, I loathed, and dreaded, and would have rid myself of the monster had I dared - it was now, I say, the image of a hideous - of a ghastly thing - of the GALLOWS ! - oh, mournful and terrible engine of Horror and of Crime - of Agony and of Death !
And now was I indeed wretched beyond the wretchedness of mere Humanity. And a brute beast - whose fellow I had contemptuously destroyed - a brute beast to work out for me - for me a man, fashioned in the image of the High God - so much of insufferable wo! Alas! neither by day nor by night knew I the blessing of Rest any more! During the former the creature left me no moment alone; and, in the latter, I started, hourly, from dreams of unutterable fear, to find the hot breath of the thing upon my face, and its vast weight - an incarnate Night-Mare that I had no power to shake off - incumbent eternally upon my heart !
Beneath the pressure of torments such as these, the feeble remnant of the good within me succumbed. Evil thoughts became my sole intimates - the darkest and most evil of thoughts. The moodiness of my usual temper increased to hatred of all things and of all mankind; while, from the sudden, frequent, and ungovernable outbursts of a fury to which I now blindly abandoned myself, my uncomplaining wife, alas! was the most usual and the most patient of sufferers.
One day she accompanied me, upon some household errand, into the cellar of the old building which our poverty compelled us to inhabit. The cat followed me down the steep stairs, and, nearly throwing me headlong, exasperated me to madness. Uplifting an axe, and forgetting, in my wrath, the childish dread which had hitherto stayed my hand, I aimed a blow at the animal which, of course, would have proved instantly fatal had it descended as I wished. But this blow was arrested by the hand of my wife. Goaded, by the interference, into a rage more than demoniacal, I withdrew my arm from her grasp and buried the axe in her brain. She fell dead upon the spot, without a groan.
This hideous murder accomplished, I set myself forthwith, and with entire deliberation, to the task of concealing the body. I knew that I could not remove it from the house, either by day or by night, without the risk of being observed by the neighbors. Many projects entered my mind. At one period I thought of cutting the corpse into minute fragments, and destroying them by fire. At another, I resolved to dig a grave for it in the floor of the cellar. Again, I deliberated about casting it in the well in the yard - about packing it in a box, as if merchandize, with the usual arrangements, and so getting a porter to take it from the house. Finally I hit upon what I considered a far better expedient than either of these. I determined to wall it up in the cellar - as the monks of the middle ages are recorded to have walled up their victims.
For a purpose such as this the cellar was well adapted. Its walls were loosely constructed, and had lately been plastered throughout with a rough plaster, which the dampness of the atmosphere had prevented from hardening. Moreover, in one of the walls was a projection, caused by a false chimney, or fireplace, that had been filled up, and made to resemble the red of the cellar. I made no doubt that I could readily displace the bricks at this point, insert the corpse, and wall the whole up as before, so that no eye could detect any thing suspicious. And in this calculation I was not deceived. By means of a crow-bar I easily dislodged the bricks, and, having carefully deposited the body against the inner wall, I propped it in that position, while, with little trouble, I re-laid the whole structure as it originally stood. Having procured mortar, sand, and hair, with every possible precaution, I prepared a plaster which could not be distinguished from the old, and with this I very carefully went over the new brickwork. When I had finished, I felt satisfied that all was right. The wall did not present the slightest appearance of having been disturbed. The rubbish on the floor was picked up with the minutest care. I looked around triumphantly, and said to myself - "Here at least, then, my labor has not been in vain."
My next step was to look for the beast which had been the cause of so much wretchedness; for I had, at length, firmly resolved to put it to death. Had I been able to meet with it, at the moment, there could have been no doubt of its fate; but it appeared that the crafty animal had been alarmed at the violence of my previous anger, and forebore to present itself in my present mood. It is impossible to describe, or to imagine, the deep, the blissful sense of relief which the absence of the detested creature occasioned in my bosom. It did not make its appearance during the night - and thus for one night at least, since its introduction into the house, I soundly and tranquilly slept; aye, slept even with the burden of murder upon my soul!
The second and the third day passed, and still my tormentor came not. Once again I breathed as a freeman. The monster, in terror, had fled the premises forever! I should behold it no more! My happiness was supreme! The guilt of my dark deed disturbed me but little. Some few inquiries had been made, but these had been readily answered. Even a search had been instituted - but of course nothing was to be discovered. I looked upon my future felicity as secured.
Upon the fourth day of the assassination, a party of the police came, very unexpectedly, into the house, and proceeded again to make rigorous investigation of the premises. Secure, however, in the inscrutability of my place of concealment, I felt no embarrassment whatever. The officers bade me accompany them in their search. They left no nook or corner unexplored. At length, for the third or fourth time, they descended into the cellar. I quivered not in a muscle. My heart beat calmly as that of one who slumbers in innocence. I walked the cellar from end to end. I folded my arms upon my bosom, and roamed easily to and fro. The police were thoroughly satisfied and prepared to depart. The glee at my heart was too strong to be restrained. I burned to say if but one word, by way of triumph, and to render doubly sure their assurance of my guiltlessness.
"Gentlemen," I said at last, as the party ascended the steps, "I delight to have allayed your suspicions. I wish you all health, and a little more courtesy. By the bye, gentlemen, this - this is a very well constructed house." [In the rabid desire to say something easily, I scarcely knew what I uttered at all.] - "I may say an excellently well constructed house. These walls are you going, gentlemen? - these walls are solidly put together;" and here, through the mere phrenzy of bravado, I rapped heavily, with a cane which I held in my hand, upon that very portion of the brick-work behind which stood the corpse of the wife of my bosom.
But may God shield and deliver me from the fangs of the Arch-Fiend ! No sooner had the reverberation of my blows sunk into silence, than I was answered by a voice from within the tomb! - by a cry, at first muffled and broken, like the sobbing of a child, and then quickly swelling into one long, loud, and continuous scream, utterly anomalous and inhuman - a howl - a wailing shriek, half of horror and half of triumph, such as might have arisen only out of hell, conjointly from the throats of the dammed in their agony and of the demons that exult in the damnation.
Of my own thoughts it is folly to speak. Swooning, I staggered to the opposite wall. For one instant the party upon the stairs remained motionless, through extremity of terror and of awe. In the next, a dozen stout arms were toiling at the wall. It fell bodily. The corpse, already greatly decayed and clotted with gore, stood erect before the eyes of the spectators. Upon its head, with red extended mouth and solitary eye of fire, sat the hideous beast whose craft had seduced me into murder, and whose informing voice had consigned me to the hangman. I had walled the monster up within the tomb!

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Guillermo del Toro’s adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft’s ‘At the Mountain of Madness’ has a production start date

Director Guillermo del Toro’s on again, off again adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness looks like it has a production start date of July 2011.

The story deals with an Antarctic expedition that discovers the ruins of an ice-covered, ancient city where they awaken a prehistoric, alien civilization.

Having read del Toro’s script adaptation, I found it to be spot on with Lovecraft’s book, though a new version includes not only much more character backstory, but also has several of the crew converting into the “Elder Things” as the rest of the expedition fights them off – with William Dyer as the sole survivor,  left to tell of the ill-fated expedition.

The script now reads more like a version of John W. Campbell’s novella, “Who Goes There?” which was the basis for the 1952 Howard Hawks classic, The Thing From Another World and John Carpenter’s, 1982 version: The Thing.

With del Toro’s touch, I’m sure he’ll deliver the goods, visually. He has this William Cameron Menzies vision that draws audiences into his work, but will this new revelation in the story harm or help it? After all, there have been two cinematic versions of The Thing and now a prequel movie is going to be released next year. Do we need another variation of Campbell’s work – instead of sticking to Lovecraft’s book?

Granted, Lovecraft stories are unusual to begin with and there is a lack of a damsel-in-distress being rescued by the dashing hero while battling the monster as  the creature squeals, “Spa Fon!” or “Squa Tront!” But they are entertaining, especially when the “Stars Are Right” in his world. 

Hopefully, At the Mountain of Madness will stay set in the 1930s and not be updated to present-day as is rumored. It has this surreal world of yesteryear that gives it its charm.

For fans of Lovecraft’s work, the H.P. Lovecraft Society produced a faithful adaptation of Madness (which includes dynamic sound effects) as a radio program that’s available on CD, as well as a 2005 black and white silent film of the “Call of Cthulu” on DVD, which runs 47 minutes, has lots of extras, and is quite impressive.

A sequel to At the Mouth of Madness was written by Tim Curen entitled, “The Hive”, in which Dyer returns to the Antarctic world with a second expedition, unearthing the “Elder Things” once again and traveling via submarine into their polar icecap lair.

Guillermo del Toro’s version of At the Mountain of Madness is slated to be released some time in 2013.

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The Occult

The term "Occult" is one of those poorly defined terms (sometimes called "skunk words") which have many different, and often mutually exclusive meanings.
Unless a speaker or author clearly defines what they mean by the term, their listeners or readers are certain to be confused.

6. Poltergeist Haunting

6. Poltergeist Hauntings
Poltergeist activity is usually caused by an adolescent teenage girl going through puberty stages. During this stage of development, a young girl can harbor an extreme amount of inner energy. This energy can be projected with the mind, which can cause tapping sounds, the movement of objects, lights flickering off and on. Poltergeist activity usually originates from a human being.
Case Example: Walter B. Gibson, The Shadow
Walter B. Gibson, writer of the pulp series The Shadow thought about his character The Shadow so much, that his projected thoughts would actually create a hologram image of The Shadow, that would lurk in his apartment. When he had guests over, his guests were frightened by a man dressed all in black, with fedora hat and red scarf covering his face. They were describing the fictional character The Shadow. The Shadow was Walter B. Gibson's poltergeist, an entity projected from his mind. With this case example, not all poltergeist activity is created from adolescent teenage girls.

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5. Doppelganger Haunting

5. Doppelganger Haunting
Extremely rare.
Case example: German ghost hunting investigative team is called upon a doppelganger haunting activity to investigate.
The woman victim was standing on a street corner and with her peripheral vision saw the image of herself on a bus. The image of herself was staring back at her. One week later she again faced her doppelganger in a crowded mall, it stared at her and seemed to disappear amongst the mass of people. It wore the same clothes that she wore. One week later, she was diagnosed with cancer.
Doppelganger haunting activity is considered the evil twin, the harbinger of misfortune, the omen of death.
In most cases, the victim of this haunting activity is in danger with her immediate surroundings, her family or in some cases the victim themselves are in grave danger of illness or death.

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4. Shadow People

4. Shadow People
This is a type of haunting activity that has no real explanation. They are different from ghosts. They are usually shapeless dark masses. Mostly seen with your peripheral vision. They are known to do things that are different from ghosts. They can move between walls, they have no human features, they wear no clothes (except for the hat man/hooded figure shadow creatures). People who encounter them, have a feeling of dread. Clairvoyants that encounter Shadow People, say they do not feel they are human and consider them non-human.
Shadow People have no discernible mouth, noses or facial expressions. Some are seen as child sized dark humanoids. Some people say they seem to be made up of dark smoke or dark steam. At times when they move, they appear to be moving on an invisible track from one place to another, such as a toy train on a small scale railroad track. They have been seen to hop or what appears to be a strange dance. They are known to stare at the floor.
Two common types of Shadow People are the 'hat man', that looks like he or she is wearing a 1930s fedora hat and the 'hooded figure', which looks like the shadow person has a hood over their head. The hood and hat stand out as clothing, but otherwise, they are not wearing any clothing at all. There are also reports of shadow animals, such as a shadow in the form of a cat, with no discernible mouth, nose or eyes.

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3. Intelligent Haunting

3. Intelligent Haunting go back to Einstein's theory. As matter beings, we are all energy beings on the quantum level. We are made up of atoms and neutrons. As matter/energy beings we have intelligence. While we live, we have an energy aura that surrounds our living bodies. This aura is created by the millions of electrical currents that are created through our bodies. Our brains creates brain waves, a form of pure energy that is transmitting our thoughts, what we see, what we feel, etc.
When our mortal form dies, the aura that constantly surrounds our bodies, leaves our bodies. We lose 6 ounces on the instance of death. What is this 6 ounces? Perhaps it is energy leaving our body. Our soul. This energy, the aura, or you may even call it your soul, is carrying the information of what we used to be. If it can do this, then why couldn't it also carry our intelligence? If it can carry our former intelligence of our previous life, then it should be able to interact with us intelligently. When we see this aura, we call it a ghost.
If this ghost is able to interact with us, is aware of us, can touch us, can communicate with us, then this is an intelligent/interactive haunting.

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2. Demon Hauntings

2. Demon Hauntings
Demons are entities that never had a mortal human form. Origins: Extraterrestrial. Why? If you believe that God and his angels are from the 'heavens', that would make them extraterrestrial. If Satan and 1/3 of the angels rebelled against God's Kingdom, then Satan and 1/3 of the angels that became demons are also extraterrestrial. That is why they never had mortal human form. Einstein said that E = MC2. Energy can be converted into matter and matter into energy. Demons are pure energy entities. They are described in three different ways.
1. As angelic, a being of beauty that will manipulate the person to commit something that is sinful or out of the ordinary.
2. Horrific, evil looking. Some people claim, they have seen demons that are incredibly hideous to look at. I believe demons do this for a scare effect, they know what we fear and this is not their true appearance.
3. Black mist, black fog, black shadow, black smoke. Most demonic hauntings, the occupants claim to be followed by black mist or black fog.
Demons can travel from San Francisco to Hong Kong in a blink of an eye. The demons main purpose is to cause chaos and havoc upon mankind. Demons are deceivers and they manipulate our society towards social upheaval. Demons seek out our destruction. Demon cases are extremely rare. To handle demonic cases, it is essential that a blessing of the purest kind is conducted on the person or home. Consult your clergyman, priest or Demonologist.
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The Six Types of Paranormal Hauntings

Over the next day I'm going to make several blog post covering the various types of hauntings that occur.
I'll start of in this post with Residual Haunting.

1.Residual haunting activity can occur when something traumatic/stressful occurs, such as a murder or a rape. Negative energy is literally blasted into the atmosphere, causing the atmosphere to imprint or record the events. Like a recording tape, it will play the events over and over again. The entities involved in this residual haunting activity are unaware of their surroundings. This is not an intelligent haunting, there is no interaction between you and the entity.
Residual haunting activity can also be caused by positive energy blasted into the atmosphere. Many times you have heard ghost stories, where people can hear the sounds of a party. They hear music, singing, dancing, laughter and when they enter the room where they hear the party, there is no one there. Residual haunting activity can be the specters of living beings.

Case example: Woman who faces domestic violence from her husband
The husband and wife move out of the apartment and the new renters see residual haunting activity in which the previous owners are involved in a domestic dispute, they appear to be specters. The new renters are able to identify the faces of the specters. When they go to a neighborhood barbecue, they see a neighborhood get-together photograph and identify a man and woman as being the specters they see in their apartment. They discover that their specters are still living, but are now divorced. Their specters were the previous renters who were always quarreling in that apartment.
Residual haunting activity can be caused by agitated nervousness, such as a new politician that is nervous about talking in front of a crowd of people. The speech by this politician is played back over and over again as a residual haunting effect.

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Minecraft Ghost

Gettysburg Ghosts

Even though the reality of this video becomes quite obvious to me towards the end of this video, the terms "Gettysburg" and "Ghost" always intrigues me. :D

Thirsty Grandfather Ghost

 

My grandparents lived in an extremely old house in Northwestern Pennsylvania, about a half mile away from the New York border. As they began getting on in their years, I traveled many miles to stay with them. I would help tend their many acres of land, paint the house, clean (or explore) the barn and do whatever other odd jobs that needed to be done.

The room I stayed in was downstairs directly below their room. Every night at 3:00 a.m., my grandfather would get up, make his way down the old stairs and into the kitchen to get something to drink. The house is so old that everything creaks and groans, so I knew exactly at which point of the house my grandfather was in. I got so accustomed to his nightly rituals that I began waking up at 2:50-3:00 a.m. This has stayed with me to this day.

Unfortunately, my grandfather passed away a couple years later in 2007. My grandmother soon became very sick and was put in the hospital for a few months. I offered to house-sit for her and she was very grateful.
The first night of my visit, I awoke out of a sound sleep. I checked the clock; it was 2:55 a.m. As I lay there, trying to go back to sleep, I heard a familiar sound: movement coming from upstairs. After a minute, it was clear the sound was footsteps. Panic shot through my body and I froze with fear. The footsteps moved from directly above me to the stairs -- but that's when they stopped.
I lay there for about 45 minutes, trying to discern what exactly was going on. The only thing that made sense was that there was a burglar. I jumped from the bed and peered out my door. Everything was dark and silent. I flipped on the nearest light switch and blinked back the darkness. Everything was as it should have been. I crept to the stairs and cautiously made my way up them. When I got to the landing, to my astonishment, the door to my grandparents' room was wide open and every lamp in the room was on! The floor lamp, the bedside table lamp, the two lamps on either side of the dresser, and all four bulbs on the ceiling fan were lit up -- even though two of the bulbs were burnt out earlier in the day!
I bolted back down the stairs and into the comfort of my own room. As I stood there panting and gathering my wits, that old familiar creaking of floorboards started once again above my head. This time, I fled from the house without further investigation and drove in a dazed frenzy all the way back to my own home! When I told my parents and relatives of my adventure, nobody wanted to take on the responsibility of house-sitting, so the house stood vacant for many months. My grandmother soon passed away and my two uncles decided to level the house.
There are now new log cabins on the property. I wonder if anyone has experienced any strange phenomena since then.

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At The Mountains of Madness Excerpt

"November 21 over the lofty shelf ice, with vast peaks rising on the west, and the unfathomed silences echoing to the sound of our engines... between Latitudes 83° and 84°, we knew we had reached Beardmore Glacier, the largest valley glacier in the world, and that the frozen sea was now giving place to a frowning and mountainous coast-line. At last we were truly entering the white, aeon-dead world of the ultimate south, and even as we realised it we saw the peak of Mt. Nansen in the eastern distance, towering up to its height of almost 15,000 feet"....H.P. Lovecraft from "At The Mountains of Madness"


Books Online Source

Axolotl eats snail

Here's a nice short Axolotl feeding video, nice and creepy creature. :D

O.o What do you think?

Firefox

I'm pretty sure most of you read firefox and first think of the web browser, but did you know that there is actually an animal called the firefox? The Firefox aslso known as the red panda is a small arboreal mammal and the only species of the genus Ailurus. Slightly larger than a domestic cat, it has reddish-brown fur, a long, shaggy tail, and a waddling gait due to its shorter front legs. It eats mainly bamboo, but is omnivorous and may also eat eggs, birds, insects, and small mammals. It is a solitary animal, mainly active from dusk to dawn, and is largely sedentary during the day.

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Japanese Weird

This definitely falls under the weird catergory, rather than the paranormal today.

About 20 percent of Japan's adult-video market is now "elder porn" with each production featuring one or more studly seniors and Shigeo Tokuda, 76, among the most popular. He told Toronto's Globe and Mail in October that he still "performs" physically "without Viagra," in at least one role a month opposite much younger women. His wife and adult daughter learned only two years ago, by accident, of his late-onset career (which began at age 60 when a filmmaker hired him for his "pervert's face"). Tokuda figures the "elder porn" genre will grow with Japan's increasing senior population.

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Poll Time!

I want to know what you guys think about the new series on AMC, "The Walking Dead".

The Walking Dead tells the story of the aftermath of a zombie apocalypse; it follows a small group of survivors traveling across the desolate United States in search of a new home away from the shuffling hordes of the undead. The group is led by Rick Grimes, who was a King County, Georgia, sheriff's deputy in the old world. As their situation grows more and more grim, the group's desperation to survive pushes them to the brink of insanity. At every turn they are faced with unspeakable horrors, both from those who are dead, and from the scattered remains of a struggling human populace.

Please Vote on the Poll to the right.----->

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Thought I'd Start The Day Off With A Little Fewdio

Yog-Sothoth

Yog-Sothoth (nickname: the All-in-One) is a fictional character, an Outer God from H. P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos.
Yog-Sothoth has several different avatars:

• Aformorgon
• The Dweller on the Threshold
• Tawil-at-U'mr

Quotes

"Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth's fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread." -- H.P. Lovecraft, The Dunwich Horror

"Imagination called up the shocking form of fabulous Yog-Sothoth - only a congeries of iridescent globes, yet stupendous in its malign suggestiveness." -- H.P. Lovecraft, The Horror in the Museum

"It was an All-in-One and One-in-All of limitless being and self - not merely a thing of one Space-Time continuum, but allied to the ultimate animating essence of existence's whole unbounded sweep � the last, utter sweep which has no confines and which outreaches fancy and mathematics alike. It was perhaps that which certain secret cults of earth have whispered of as YOG-SOTHOTH, and which has been a deity under other names; that which the crustaceans of worship as the Beyond-One, and which the vaporous brains of the spiral nebulae know by an untranslatable Sign..." -- H.P. Lovecraft, Through the Gates of the Silver Key

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1. The Myrtles Plantation

Built in 1796 by General David Bradford, this stately old home on Myrtles Plantation is said to be haunted be several restless ghosts. Some researchers say as many as ten murders have been committed there, but others, such as Troy Taylor and David Wisehart, have only been able to confirm one murder at Myrtles. (Those two authors provide a very good history of the house in their article, The Legends, Lore & Lies of The Myrtles Plantation). Even they agree, however, that the place is seriously haunted and easily qualifies as one of the "most haunted." These are some of the ghosts that allegedly haunt the house:

• Cleo – a former slave who was allegedly hung on the premises for killing two little girls. (Those murders and even the existence of Cleo are in question.)
• The ghosts of the two murdered children have been seen playing on the veranda.
• William Drew Winter – an attorney who lived at Myrtles from 1860 to 1871. He was shot on the side porch of the house by a stranger. With his life's blood pouring from his body, Winter staggered into the house and began to climb the stairs to the second floor... but didn't make it. He collapsed and died on the 17th step. It is his last dying footsteps that can still be heard on the staircase to this day. (Winter's murder is the only one that has been verified.)
• The ghosts of other slaves allegedly occasionally show up to ask if they can do any chores.
• The grand piano has often been heard to play by itself, repeating one haunting chord.

Now a bed and breakfast, The Myrtles Plantation has opened its doors to guests who often report disturbances in the night. My colleague, Stacey Jones, founder of Central New York Ghost Hunters, reports on her stay there:
"It was a spectacular place to stay, if you keep an open mind. While taking the guided tour, I saw what looked like a heavyset African-American woman wearing an apron walk by the door, on the porch. Thinking it was a worker in period dress, I peeked out and no one was there. We stayed in the children's bedroom, and my best-friend (who was a non-believer at the time) experienced quite a bit of paranormal phenomena. She was held down in the bed and constantly poked all night. She was unable to move or cry out for help. She didn't think the stay was as great as I did. They let you ghost hunt on the grounds whenever you like, but you can't ghost hunt in the main house without an escort. I suggest setting up a video camera in your room and bring a tape recorder to obtain EVP."

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2. The Tower of London

 

The Tower of London, one of the most famous and well-preserved historical buildings in the world, may also be one of the most haunted. This is due, no doubt, to the scores of executions, murders and tortures that have taken place within its walls over the last 1,000 years. Dozens upon dozens of ghost sightings have been reported in and around the Tower. On one winter day in 1957 at 3 a.m., a guard was disturbed by something striking the top of his guardhouse. When he stepped outside to investigate, he saw a shapeless white figure on top of the tower. It was then realized that on that very same date, February 12, Lady Jane Grey was beheaded in 1554. Perhaps the most well-known ghostly resident of the Tower is the spirit of Ann Boleyn, one of the wives of Henry VIII, who was also beheaded in the Tower in 1536. Her ghost has been spotted on many occasions, sometimes carrying her head, on Tower Green and in the Tower Chapel Royal.
Other ghosts of the Tower include those of Henry VI, Thomas a Becket and Sir Walter Raleigh. One of the most gruesome ghost stories connected with the Tower of London describes death of the Countess of Salisbury. According to one account, "the Countess was sentenced to death in 1541 following her alleged involvement in criminal activities (although it is now widely believed that she was probably innocent). After being sent struggling to the scaffold, she ran from the block and was pursued until she was hacked to death by the axe man." Her execution ceremony has been seen re-enacted by spirits on Tower Green.

3. Eastern State Penitentiary

Eastern State Penitentiary has become a favorite destination for ghost hunters as well as the public at large since it has been opened to tours.

Built in 1829, the imposing Gothic structure was originally designed to hold 250 inmates in solitary confinement. At the height of its use, however, as many as 1,700 prisoners were crammed into the cells. Like many such places of high emotional stress, misery and death, the prison has become haunted.
One of its most famous inmates was none other than Al Capone, was was incarcerated there on illegal weapons possession in 1929. During his stay, it is said that Capone was tormented by the ghost of James Clark, one of the men Capone had murdered in the infamous St. Valentine's Day massacre.
Other reported haunting activity includes:

• A shadow-like figure that scoots quickly away when approached.
• A figure that stands in the guard tower.
• An evil cackling reportedly comes from cellblock 12.
• In cellblock 6, another shadowy figure has been seen sliding down the wall.
• Mysterious, ghostly faces are said to appear in cellblock 4.

Unfortunately, not all of these cells are open to the public, even on the tours.

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4. The Queen Mary

This grand old ship is quite haunted, according to the many people who have worked on and visited the craft. Once a celebrated luxury ocean liner, when it ended its sailing days the Queen Mary was purchased by the city of Long Beach, California in 1967 and transformed into a hotel. The most haunted area of the ship is the engine room where a 17-year-old sailor was crushed to death trying to escape a fire. Knocking and banging on the pipes around the door has been heard and recorded by numerous people. In what is now the front desk area of the hotel, visitors have seen the ghost of a "lady in white."
Ghosts of children are said to haunt the ship's pool. The spirit of a young girl, who allegedly broke her neck in an accident at the pool, has been heard asking for her mother or her doll. In the hallway of the pool's changing rooms is an area of unexplained activity. Furniture moves about by itself, people feel the touch of unseen hands and unknown spirits appear. In the front hull of the ship, a specter can sometimes be heard screaming - the pained voice, some believe, of a sailor who was killed when the Queen Mary collided with a smaller ship.

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5. Waverly Hills Sanatorium

The original Waverly Hills Sanatorium, a two-story wooden structure, was opened in 1910, but the larger brick and concrete structure as it stand today was completed in 1926. The hospital was always dedicated to the treatment of tuberculosis patients, a disease that was fairly common in the early 20th Century.

It is estimated that as many as 63,000 people died as the sanatorium. Those deaths coupled with the reports of severe mistreatment of patients and highly questionable experiments and procedures are ingredients for a haunted location.

Ghost investigators who have ventured into Waverly have reported a host of strange paranormal phenomena, including voices of unknown origin, isolated cold spots and unexplained shadows. Screams have been heard echoing in its now abandoned hallways, and fleeting apparitions have been encountered.


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6. The Whaley House

 

The Whaley House

Located in San Diego, California, the Whaley House has earned the title of "the most haunted house in the U.S." Built in 1857 by Thomas Whaley on land that was partially once a cemetery, the house has since been the locus of dozens of ghost sightings. Author deTraci Regula relates her experiences with the house: "Over the years, while dining across the street at the Old Town Mexican Cafe, I became accustomed to noticing that the shutters of the second-story windows [of the Whaley House] would sometimes open while we ate dinner, long after the house was closed for the day. On a recent visit, I could feel the energy in several spots in the house, particularly in the courtroom, where I also smelled the faint scent of a cigar, supposedly Whaley's calling-card. In the hallway, I smelled perfume, initially attributing that to the young woman acting as docent, but some later surreptitious sniffing in her direction as I talked to her about the house revealed her to be scent-free."
Some of the other ghostly encounters include:

• The spirit of a young girl who was accidentally hanged on the property.
• The ghost of Yankee Jim Robinson, a thief who was clubbed to death and who can be heard on the house's stairway where he died, and has sometimes been seen during tours of the old house.
• The red-haired daughter of the Whaley's sometimes appears in such a realistic form; she is sometimes mistaken for a live child.

Famed psychic Sybil Leek claimed to have sensed several spirits there, and renowned ghost hunter Hanz Holzer considered the Whaley to be one of the most reliably haunted structures in the United States.


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7. Raynham Hall

Raynham Hall in Norfolk, England, is most famous for the ghost of  "the Brown Lady," which was captured on film in 1936 in what is considered one of the most authentic ghost pictures ever taken. The Unexplained Site describes one of the first encounters with the spirit: "The first known sighting happened during the 1835 Christmas season. Colonel Loftus, who happened to be visiting for the holidays, was walking to his room late one night when he saw a strange figure ahead of him. As he tried to gain a better look, the figure promptly disappeared. The next week, the Colonel was again came upon the woman. He described her as a noble woman who wore a brown satin dress. Her face seemed to glow, which highlighted her empty eye sockets."

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8. The White House

That's right, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C. is not only home to the current President of the United States, it also is home of several former presidents who occasionally decide to make their presences known there, despite the fact that they are dead. President Harrison is said to be heard rummaging around in the attic of the White House, looking for who knows what. President Andrew Jackson is thought to haunt his White House bedroom. And the ghost of First Lady Abigail Adams was seen floating through one of the White House hallways, as if carrying something.
The most frequently sighted presidential ghost has been that of Abraham Lincoln. Eleanor Roosevelt once stated she believed she felt the presence of Lincoln watching her as she worked in the Lincoln bedroom. Also during the Roosevelt administration, a young clerk claimed to have actually seen the ghost of Lincoln sitting on a bed pulling off his boots. On another occasion, while spending a night at the White House during the Roosevelt presidency, Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands was awakened by a knock on the bedroom door. Answering it, she was confronted with the ghost of Abe Lincoln staring at her from the hallway. Calvin Coolidge's wife reported seeing on several occasions the ghost of Lincoln standing with his hands clasped behind his back, at a window in the Oval Office, staring out in deep contemplation toward the bloody battlefields across the Potomac.

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9. The Rolling Hills Asylum

 

Located between Buffalo and Rochester, Rolling Hills Asylum's enormous 53,000+ sq. ft. brick building sits on a knoll in the hamlet of E. Bethany, N.Y. and has been a popular destination for ghost hunters for many years. Opened on January 1, 1827 and originally named The Genesee County Poor Farm, it was created by Genesee County to house those eligible for assistance including paupers, habitual drunkards, lunatics, the blind, lame or otherwise handicapped, orphans, widows, vagrants, and even a murderer or two. In the 1950s it became the Old County Home & Infirmary, and then in the 1990s was transformed into a set of shops and later an antiques mall. When the property owners, vendors and shoppers began to notice strange occurrences, a paranormal group was called into investigate and Rolling Hills' spooky reputation was born. Reports include disembodied voices, doors mysteriously held shut, screams in the night, shadow people and more. Rolling Hills Case Manager, Suzie Yencer relates one chilling experience: "It was September 2007. While working a public hunt, we had a gentleman with us that was filming a documentary about the building. He wanted to try an experiment in one of the rooms. The room he chose was in the basement, popularly known as The Christmas Room. The experiment he wanted to try was to sit in the room with no lights or equipment on. The only light we would use was a pink glow stick in the middle of a circle of people. We also placed a small ball and a toddler size rocking horse in the circle. The gentleman conducting the experiment requested that only I talk and try to make contact with the spirits. The more I talked, the more strange occurrences began to happen. The glow stick started to move back and forth, and the rocking horse began to slowly rock. A few of the guests in the room including myself saw a hand and arm come out of nowhere and reach for the ball in the circle and then just vanish...."

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10. The Stanley Hotel

Brief history: Completed in 1909 by Freelan Oscar Stanley (inventor of the Stanley Steamer automobile), this 138-guest room hotel in the Colorado Rockies is probably best known as the inspiration for Stephen King's book The Shining, which he wrote after staying at The Stanley, in room 217. King did not write the novel there, nor was the 1980 Stanley Kubrick movie filmed there, but the TV movie version of The Shining was used as the location. Today, the elegant hotel is a popular resort and destination for ghost hunters; a ghost tour is even offered to visitors.
Ghosts: Several apparitions and other phenomena have been reported throughout the hotel:

• The ghosts of Freelan Stanley and his wife Flora have been seen dressed in formal attire on the main staircase and in other public areas, such as the lobby and the billiard room.
• Mr. Stanley has also been spotted in the administration offices, perhaps to keep an eye on the hotel's books. The Flora's piano playing occasionally echos in the ballroom.
• Disembodied voices and phantom footsteps have been heard in the hallways and rooms.
• Staff and visitors have reported unseen hands yanking at their clothing.
• More than one guest has said they have awakened to find their blankets taken from their beds and neatly folded.
• The Earl of Dunraven, who owned the land prior to the Stanleys, is said to haunt room 407, where the aroma of his cherry pipe tobacco still can be smelled. A ghostly face has also been reported peering out of the room's window when it was not occupied.
• Room 217, where Stephen King stayed, was the site of a tragic accident in 1911: housekeeper Elizabeth Wilson was nearly killed by a gas leak explosion. Since her death in the 1950s, strange, unexplained activity is said to take place in that room, including doors opening and closing, and lights switching on and off by themselves.
• Room 418 is the most haunted room, according to hotel staff, apparently by the ghosts of children. Guests who stay there say phantom children can be heard playing in the hallways at night. One couple complained that the noisy children kept them up all night, although there were no children staying at the hotel at the time. Impressions of bodies have been found on the bed when the room as been unoccupied.
• The ghost of a small child who calls out to his nanny has been spotted on several occasions on the second floor -- including by Stephen King.

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In case you can't tell I'm doing a more in depth look at each of the places on The 10 Most Paranormal Places post, one place at a time. :D

The 10 Most Paranormal Places

There are certain haunted places where the restless spirits of the night linger. They manifest as eerie voices and strange perfumes; they move things about; they creep out of the shadows as apparitions. Sometimes they even attack.

These are the places, through years of experiences and unnerving reputation, that are considered the most haunted places in the world.

 

1. The Myrtles Plantation
2. The Tower of London
3. Eastern State Penitentiary
4. The Queen Mary
5. Waverly Hills Sanatorium
6. The Whaley House
7. Raynham Hall
8. The White House
9. Rolling Hills Asylum
10. The Stanley Hotel

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I Present To You, Spengbab!

Mutation at it's finest. :D

Awakening The Great Old Ones

On the night of Tuesday, 24th January 1995 e.v., when the moon was waning and in its last quarter, I performed an Invocation of the Great 0ld Ones. This was based on the research and meditations arising from my work on a Mantra for the Great Old Ones, which had in turn been stimulated by Kenneth Grant’s examination of the word ‘Tutulu’ in his book Outer Gateways. The twin foundations of my own work were two inspired texts, which despite their clearly disparate origins and purposes, had served to transmit the same deep and creative, magickal current. I refer to Howard Phillips Lovecraft’s The Call of Cthulhu, and to Aleister Crowley’s Liber VII, The Book of the Lapis Lazuli, in the seventh chapter of which is to be found the key mantra of Olalam Imal Tutulu.


Prior to the invocation, I finally had succeeded in devising a satisfactory form for the yantra, or Sigil of Awakening, which was derived from the component letters of the mantra, as in the method made familiar by Austin Osman Spare. Although this technique is of sublime simplicity, it is essential that the symbol evolved should be aesthetically resonant with the perceived purpose of the mantra, or spell, for it to serve as an effective vehicle of magickal energy. Several alternative forms may suggest themselves as being suitable for the same sigil; indeed, in the case of a complex spell, such as the one involved here — in which each word is itself a concentrated focus of magickal energy — it may be useful to visualise the sigil as an evolving sequence of images leading up to the most complete form of symbolic expression that is desired. This will be made more apparent in the course of the description of the invocation, but to give some preliminary indication of what is implied, the following basis may suffice.


The purpose of the mantra is to awaken the Great Old Ones, of which Cthulhu, or Tutulu, is the archetype and primary point of focus. The sigil of Tutulu alone, therefore, is the initial component in the more complex symbol of the Sigil of Awakening as a whole.

Here, the tentacles of Cthulhu, symbolised as the twin towers of Tutulu, are closed together; they await the influx of that magickal energy which will polarise them into activity and release the horizontal bar which seals the pylon of the deep, enabling the star-spawn from the sepulchres of R’lyeh to come into waking manifestation. In combination with the other elements of the Mantra of Release,-the completed sigil becomes the embodiment and celebration of this event.

Invocation of the Great Old Ones
I performed the invocation seated, at a table covered with a dark green cloth. (I was facing due north—west, but the actual, spatial orientation was not considered as being of significance in this simple rite which did not require any invocation of the Elemental Quarters, nor the casting of any Circle of Art). At the rear—centre of the table, on an oval mat, was placed a single blue-green candle; to its right was a small, brass incense burner containing ‘dark musk’ joss; and to its left was a small figurine, in green resin, of a rather spectral Cthulhu. In front of these was the Sigil of Awakening, done in black ink on white, A4 size paper. To the left were the texts to be used in the invocation, and to the right was a glass and bottle of red wine, to stimulate the senses and to provide refreshment.


At 11.30 pm, I commenced the rite by lighting the candle and the incense. Picking up my copy of The Call of Cthulhu, I read Old Castro’s account of the mythos of the Great Old Ones, of how they had come to the earth from distant stars, of their twilight existence — dead and dreaming’ — within their great city of R’lyeh, and of how it had sunk beneath the sea, and of the secret cult which had perpetuated their memory. I read the text quietly, but audibly; I was familiar with the words, and read them with a real sense of warmth and understanding. Then I subdued the electric light altogether, and focusing my gaze on the solitary candle flame, I began to repeat the incantation of Cthulhu:


Ph’nglui inglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.


I continued in this until the mantra became precise and fluid in its modulation; until it had become internalised and fully resonant within my being.


When I had persisted in this for some time and my mouth had become dry, I paused for a drink of wine. Then I took my copy of Liber VII, and placing it within the small circle of light upon the table, I began to read its seventh chapter. Again, my reading was quiet, but audible, and done with the passionate intensity of invocation: enjoying the lyrical beauty of its verses and fully appreciative of the sensual richness with which they described the intimate relations between the Adept and his Holy Guardian Angel. And, although Crowley himself would have been unfamiliar with the Lovecraftian perspective of my own current mode of access to his text, I found that it blended very well with my purpose. There was, of course, the familiar sixth verse which spoke of the mighty sepulchre, and contained the ‘mantra of release’ itself; but there were other verses that aligned themselves with my intent. Of these, the most notable were:


20: Thou hast stirred in Thy sleep, 0 ancient sorrow of years! Thou hast raised Thine head to strike, and all is dissolved into the Abyss of Glory.


29: There shall be a sigil as of a vast black brooding ocean of death and the central blaze of darkness, radiating its night upon all.


At the conclusion of the reading, I made a spontaneous supplication to the Great Old Ones, addressing them as the Mighty Ancestors and calling upon them to illuminate my consciousness with the knowledge of their Ways. Then, after a pause, I began to intone the Mantra of Release:


Olalain linal Tutulu.


This was done as a slow and solemn call, remorseless in its insistence; it was in the manner of a dirge for dead Cthuihu, I soon realised. As I concentrated on the mantra, I looked directly at the candle flame, then gradually I shifted the focus of my gaze to the Sigil of Awakening. At its base, I visualised the citadel of R’lyeh emerging from the Waters of the Abyss, and rising from these were the Twin Towers of Great Cthulhu: tall and steadfast, establishing the Pylon for his emergence into the waking World of Making. Arisen within the Pylon is the Sun at Midnight, towards which is ascending the Whirling Cross of Chaos, the talisman of the Opener of the Ways. As the power of the Great Old Ones rises towards the Sky, the summits of the towers burst into flame and all is dissolved in an effulgence of light, an all-consuming ecstasy of liberation.


Persisting with the mantra, I concentrated on the sigil and closed my eyes and visualised the sigil as engraved upon the dark doorway of the tomb of Cthulhu. I changed my chant to that of the Call of Cthulhu and invoked the deep darkness within that sepulchre of night, summoning the Great Old One into the light. When I resumed the mantra it developed a more insistent tone, a quickening, more joyful rhythm that was reminiscent of a vodoun chant. This was not a conscious decision on my part, but it was clear that the mantra had become a song of celebration for the rising of Great Cthulhu. As I continued with the chant, aware of the light and the perfume of the incense, all sensations focused within a small zone of intimacy surrounded by the darkness of the night, I experienced a strong realisation of the presence of the Ancient Ones and knew that the invocation had achieved its purpose. This had only been a preliminary rite, but I felt that my choice of mantra and sigil had been fully vindicated. I poured myself another glass of wine and began to make some brief notes on the rite: it was approaching 12.45 am.


Later, still seated at the table, I turned to Lovecraft’s tale once again to read his description of "the nightmare corpse-city of R’lyeh," and to contemplate the implications of his highly-charged imagery. The main thrust of this is to portray the citadel of the Great Old Ones as a place that is totally alien and loathsome to human understanding, but inevitably, he is obliged to draw upon allusions which have their roots-within the cultural matrices of the human psyche, in order to achieve his aim. Thus, Lovecraft refers to "the cosmic majesty of this dripping Babylon of elder daemons," drawing upon the sexually apocalyptic vision of "Mystery, Babylon the Great, the Mother of Harlots and Abominations of the Earth" depicted in chapter seventeen of Revelation. But there are more subtle allusions than this, other images which opened up their ornately-crafted locks to the exploratory keys of my invocation.
I identified the "great stone pillar sticking out of the sea" with the blue-green candle upon my altar: the flickering of its solitary corpse-light representing the dark shadows of dream insinuating themselves into waking awareness. This "hideous monolith" is none other than the funerary stela of the great priest Cthulhu, rearing its-cyclopean angles to the sky. It is carved with weird designs, among which I had identified the Sigil of Awakening. Lovecraft says of the scene, that:


"The very sun of heaven seemed distorted when viewed through the polarising miasma welling out from this sea-soaked perversion..." This fusion of images reminded me of a passage in the ancient Ugaritic text known as The Tale of Aqhat:
To raise a solemn stone for ancestors,
For the departed, a sun-disk;
To draw his wraith like vapour from the earth,
And guard his shrine from impious hands. (*)For Lovecraft, the rising of R’lyeh and the liberation of Cthulhu was a cataclysmic event of menacing and unnatural proportions, which he described as "The Madness from the Sea." In contrast, the implication of my invocation was that the awakening of the Great Old Ones is a potent and transformative experience, not a manifestation of madness, but an apotheosis of the Hidden Light.

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Cthulhu = Totoro? :D

The last video got disabled but here's a slight twist on the same concept, plx enjoy.

For Your Enjoyment. :D

Last Video was Diabled. So above is a bit of a twist on the same concept. :D

Pukwudgie, say what?

A Pukwudgie is a 2-or-3-foot-tall (0.61 or 0.91 m) troll-like being from the Wampanoag folklore. Pukwudgies' features resemble those of a human, but with enlarged nose, fingers and ears. Their skin is described as being grey, smooth and at times has been known to glow.
In Native American lore, Pukwudgies have the following traits and abilities;

• to appear and disappear at will
• to transform into other animals
• they are able to use magic
• they have poison arrows
• they can create fire at will
• Pukwudgies control Tei-Pai-Wankas which are believed to be the souls of Native Americans they have killed.

Native Americans believed that Puckwudgies were best left alone. When you see a Puckwudgie you are not supposed to mess with them, or they will repay you by playing nasty tricks on you, or following you and causing trouble. They were once friendly to humans, then they turned against them. They are known to kidnap humans, push people off of cliffs, attack their victims with short knives and spears and to use sand to blind their victim.

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