Moon Phases

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Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Coven Wars of World WarII

Lammas NightLammas Night by Katherine Kurtz
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Lamas Night

World War II is in full swing, the British are evacuating Dunkirk. Among the soldiers and the intelligence people fleeing , a British agent named Michael Jordan is among them. On his person are some valuable photographs about the Nazi occult program. Wounded and making his way across the English Channel even after the boat he is on sinks, Michael must get to John Graham. Michael is also a member of a witch cult.

From the bowels of Germanys' occult program, John Graham, witch father and M16 agent accesses the second road to infiltrate the German occult program. He sees Sturm, a dark magician dedicated t Satan. Sturm protects Hitler from any from of occult attack.

France has fallen and something must be done quickly to thwart Hitler's next move, invading England. The military handles troop movements but the witches of England must do something magical to veer Hitler's plan. John Graham has the unfortunate the task. Of trying to unite the witches and occultist and have them do their Lamas Night Ritual to defeat Hitler or at least get him to change his mind. Not all the witches agree, there are still laws on the books against witchcraft, some other witches Just do not agree.
To get the witches to cooperate John must find a leader who will unite the witches. Only one person who could really qualify and that's Prince William. The Prince is a fifth wheel, will never inherit the throne, cannot go into deep action due to the fact he is royalty. He is of then old blood. Slowly to William learns about the witch cult and the witch blood that flows into his veins. Will Prince William succeed in uniting the witches?

This work of fiction covers a lot of ground. It talks about Sir Francis Drake and his magic that supposedly stopped the Spanish Armada from invading. Then there are the pat life regression where in the various members discover what their past live were like and what roles they play. Remember the king is tied to the land and a sacrifice must be made every 7 years.

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Sunday, October 29, 2017

The Sight of Eddie King

I Have the Sight (EDWARD KING #1)I Have the Sight by Rick Wood
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Eddie King has been tortured by visions ever since his sister died in a bike ride with him on the estate. Eddie himself was rendered unconscious for a period of time and was tormented by visions of haunted lady and a demon. Is the haunted lady his sister? Who is the demon? With Cassy dying Edie king’s life becomes topsy turvy. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a girl with scars and black hair just staring at him. His father develops a drinking problem and becomes abusive with his wife. His best friend Jenny comes out that she is gay. As the years roll by Eddie’s fortunes wane and he is hardly considered stable. Having taken up with Jenny and Lacy, he soon finds that he is wearing out his welcome.

A plunge of the bridge into the freezing waters below send him back to the underworld where he is tormented by the lady. It maybe his sister? He confronts the demon Balam, who has his sister prisoner.
When he wakes up it is three months later and finds out that he was out for three months and he was declared brain dead. His life is starting to really fall apart. His visist to the psychic does not go a planned and she introduces him to Derek and Levi, two semi pro exorcists.
Eddie has been cursed and blessed. He can go the underworld which is off limits to mortals. But he was not supposed to be there and so something had tried to take his place. Eddie can also see demons while other people cannot see them. The demon Lamashtu has a hold on Eddie and soon he will die.
The big questions remains? Or should I say several questions still remain. Can the exorcist fights Lamashtu? Will Eddie free his sister from the demon’s clutches? Will Balam be defeated?
Find this out and ore by reading he story. It is free off amazon and definitely worth the read. Would be nice if it was longer and had a few more details thrown in to fatten the book up a bit. Over all this guys Is a good story teller.


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Friday, October 27, 2017

Pazuzus Child IV

Pazuzu's Child IV Enter Pazuzu The blond figure walked slowly through the blasted and burned remain of the hairy ape like Graham . Bending over carefully so as not to smear dirt or blood on his off white suit he slowly picked up the head of a fallen Trajan. "You are one ugly creature" he held the ape like head at arms length and examined the head as though he were admiring it. He squinted his eyes and scrunched his face in disgust as he noted the extra long canine teeth of the creature jutting up from its lower jaw. Much like fangs but placed on the wrong part of the jaw. The rest of the face was much like a cross between a gorilla and a chimpanzee. " Truly an ugly creature" he said quietly enough for only himself and the decapitated head he held in his hand. Shuddering at the ugly creatures head in disgust he threw it back in the ground, where it rolled until it gently hit a tree. There was a hollow thunk sound as though one were knocking a watermelon. Casually he walked over to some of the human remains. He kicked the carcass of a bearded thug going stiff with rigor mortis. " Evil doer" he whispered with an devilish undertone "too Bad It Was Not I Or one Of My servants who did you in, I could have fed off your soul" He chuckled to Himself and then walked on toward the Vortex. How convenient he Thought to himself, the fog suppresses all sound coming from the tiny little glen. And so he walked through the vortex whispering to himself quietly. " Dam trajan" he was shaking his head " one day I shall words with that dwarf king Oid" _____________________________________________________________________________________________ The Usurper King The court of Uruk was bedecked in opulent splendor with craftsmanship never viewed before by the Viking king. If one could get used to the heat the desert realms of Sumeria were not half bad. Still despite the opulence and wealth, the King Ragnar much preferred his homeland, the kingdom of the Danes. Ragnar knew that was not an option. Death had opened her doorway and was devouring literally everything in sight. The sailing from Norseland to the realm of the Phoenicians had been smooth enough and the Phoenicians themselves were not warrior types but rather merchants who quite ,quick and ready to engage in commerce of any sort. The main cargo the Vikings were interested in was slave. In a world based on need a mug of mead in the midst of the desert sun was of more value than all the gold in the world. Death was reaching out into his world , his people with an evil of her gnarled claw like hand. The slaves were not for labor or any other uses people had for them. They were used for sacrifices. Perhaps it was 10 years ago when the dark goddess of death reached her bony hand into the realms of the northern lands. Plagues started to attack and decimate the land and it's people. The dark goddess of death had sent her minions to feed upon the souls of the living. By day she would grow stronger, her power would was like the increased light of the moon. Death wanted to over come the living. She would feed off the souls of human sacrifices. There was sorrow in the Viking kings eyes when he purchased is group of slave. The warlike Akkadians had over taken villages and enslaved entire populations. "You will enjoy these slaves" the Akkadian had declared with a belly laugh while pointing to the enslaved women and children. They were poor unfortunate creature chained in a cage like defeated animals. " I am afraid my procurement of slaves is not for enjoyment or labor. " whispered back the Viking king ,his saddened face portraying his shame. He shook his head and then continued "they are to be sacrificed to the dark goddess of death" "Ereshkigal" spat the Akkadian chief. "The dead have no business with the living" "Tell that to her and her demons that come from the underworld devouring everyone in sight." Answered the Viking scornfully. " in our corner of the world we call her Hela" The Akkadian chieftain shrugged "maybe that is what you call her in your snow covered lands , I do not know or maybe the land of the dead is divided up into regions and cities like the land of the living and the two we are talking about are different queens of different land in the realm of the dead." The Viking king sighed and took a deep breath. " your gods out here in the desert h realm have the same stories and everything yet they have different names. " The Akkadian chief laughed heartily. " perhaps we are all the same" he said. " maybe The Gods walk among us In Disguise taking a different name with every different place. " " perchance" muttered the Viking , hand slowly stroking his beard. " This death goddess is devastating plague upon my land" The chieftain smiled clapping the Viking king upon his shoulder. " she will take and take and when you can give her no more then she will launch her war up on the living" the chieftain paused . He was looking at the Vikings face making sure his words were sinking in. " Many gods and goddesses have challenged death and lost but there is a magician who can help " " who can challenge death ? " the Viking asked in amazement " not even Odin could rescue his son Baldur from the clutches of death.. " "Death can be beaten" laughed the Akkadian " I think there are two goddesses who have defeated death . Anatu and Ishtar but they have not been seen gracing the desert sands for a long time. Which is why you must go see the magician . " _____________________________________________________________________________________________ Lair of the Magician " The Northern Goddess of death " chuckled the gap toothed magician " an emaciated lady the spawn of demons. " the cloaked magicians tone became serious. " She is one who has never tasted defeat she will not be easily defeated. " the Viking kings face was crestfallen. "Must my people be constantly sacrificed to this soul hungry goddess" lamented Ragnar. " God's and goddesses feed on human souls " countered the old magician. " so do demons ,especially those of the under world . They wait like predators hoping to pounce upon a hapless victim. " The angry Viking slammed his two fists into the old stone table. The magicians tools that were laying upon the table shook and rattled. The stone table itself became cracked. " Must I allow this evil demon free reign to slaughter my people? " bellowed the enraged viking " relax" the magician said with a reassuring smile. "There is one who can defeat this decrepit queen of the dead." " who is this warrior that can lay this demon to rest once and for all ? " demanded Ragnar . " he is a warrior demon of utmost strength. " explained the gap toothed magician with another reassuring smile. " a demon? " screamed the Viking leader with rage. " A demon? " "Demons and gods do feed off of human souls" whispered the magician "some will feed off on other deities and demons, pazuzu is one such spirit." The Viking day enraptured by the magician . " pazuzu, son of Hanbi, is one such demon. He is evil against evil. He is a demon that feeds off of other demons" " is he dangerous to humans ? " the Viking king asked cautiously. " Only evil doers" the gap toothed magician laugh back. "Only evil doers" "How do I reach Pazuzu? "Rather queried eagerly. " I conjure him" the magician said with a glint in his eye. _____________________________________________________________________________________________ Conjuring pazuzu A light knocking sound had some him up. Pazuzu questioned himself as the fog was lifted slowly from his mind. How long had it been since a human had last summoned him. The sleep had been long. Milenia, centuries of years? Pazuzu opened his mind's eye and gazed upon an old darkened Arabian magician calling his name inside a circle of salt. At the circles East end was a large triangle abutting the circle. There is where they would trap him! "Think today I will take a human form" he said to himself. His minds eye surveyed the temple. Solid walks and floors of ancient limestone. The chamber itself must have underground judging by the look of things. The smoke coming from the censers had nowhere to go, so the room was filled with the smoke from the burned frankincense and myrrh. To go there would suffocate him. "Decisions, decisions" pazuzu muttered to himself, wondering what his next move would be. No one in Earth one ever bothered with the old ones. Earth two it was still alive. Still no one summoned demons and even fewer people even bothered summoning pazuzu. He stopped and paused again. "Guess I can check out earth two or stay trapped in this nether realm forever," the old demon thought to himself . "Freedom is freedom so here goes nothing" and so Pazuzu descended to Earth 2. The triangle protected him from offensive odors of the frankincense and myrrh and so he appeared before the cowled magician. Dressed in his creme colored suit with black alligator skin shoes. His hair was a light blind cut one side shorter than the other. His eyes were hazel and he flashed a smile so delicious he could charm just about anyone. "Well it has been heaven knows how long since those Christian looneys banished me to some realm where I have been forced to sleep." Pazuzu said quite gratefully flashing his oh so delicious smile. " our task is the goddess of death, she is escaping her realm and claiming the souls of the living. " the magician informed of he demon in a tone of severity. "Well I will tell you" the demon explained with a chuckle under his breathe . " I brook no quarrel with Ereshkigal , and I am not so keen to have one . Pazuzu's tone became more serious and his delicious smile began to fade. "She has a different name" said the magician " in the north where the snow drifts cover the earth, she is called Hela" Pazuzu paced around the salt lined triangle , his thoughts racing to his head. What seemed like an endless river of minutes. From his silent musings one would here the words freedom, war and fighting. Finally he stopped and fixed his hazel eyes on the magician who summoned him and he smiled a devilish smile. "There is a way but it is 10 years in the making and as luck would have it, this coincides with my plan." The Viking and the Sorcerer turned and gave each other a puzzled look/ " Oh come on why the puzzles looks " he yelled outva, loud laugh. In fact he laughed so hard that his face turned red. Sitting on what would seem like an invisible chair he began to explain what his plan would entail. _____________________________________________________________________________________________ Pazuzu's Plan " I think it was around the year 1972 on Earth one or there about, I am not totally sure" began the blond demon still sitting aloft on his invisible chair. "Maybe the dates don't matter" he continued " You are not familiar with that any way.but I did see a young child possessing all that righteous fury that would make him the perfect avatar. " the magician and the Viking listened on with the appearance of awe engraved upon their face. " he had berserker blood running in veins and he had been adopted by a family just days after he had been born.. As you know family member can change their mind and some how convince themselves that they have the right to reverse a situation and relative today as before do not always mind their own business, like they should. So an Aunt and her children tried to take the little boy back. This young boy had no idea of anything. First they tried to talking to him in a church. Mind you I saw all this imprisoned in the realm the Christians locked me away in. Might I tell you that to do such a thing to a child is a horrid thing to do. The little boy was not scared like most little boys his age would be, he was angry, he was enraged, he was ready to wreak havoc. That little boy what I was looking for , a rager. Oh how I loved it. I Digress unfortunately, back to this young boys story and why I liked him so much. The courts do not always dispense justice. They forced the boy to meet the aunt and her children. Thinking his adoptive parents were his real parents he was , of course, repelled by them. In his mind they were repulsive creatures. Then a couple of days later they came in a van to take him back to his biological family. His adoptive mother had a different story to tell. She has told him that they wanted to adopt him back in the city of his birth but that she had changed his mind. The boy was sad as anyone his age would be going through such an ordeal. The young one was no one to bow down to the wicked savageness of sorrow no he was plotting his escape or his return to home. No sooner had they parked the can and gotten into the house the young boy flew into a rage. The furniture was smashed into pieces. He ran around the house like a lunatic evading capture from the larger adults and locked himself in a room with a younger girl. This poor girl was duly afraid of this raging monster of a boy who stood before her. The girl was deathly frightened and the little boy with glowing red hair wanted to go home to his mother and father . A funny deal was struck, she would feign injury from the knife he held in his hand and in exchange he would do her no harm. Needless to say the deal fell through. The adults in the room opened the door, detained the boy, plopped him back into the can and drove him back home. Parent and child were reunited and I knew then that I had found my avatar. " The Viking and the magician understood most of the story, yet there were concepts and words they did not understand. Pazuzu patiently explained what a van was, what a court was and what adoption was among other things. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ Pazuzu' Return to Uruk. Through the vortex he had walked. Glancing down at the ground covered with puddles of blood, the old demon chuckled. He kicked the severed law and then thought about it. Pick it up he thought to himself and put it in a purple velvet bag. It would come in useful later he thought to himself again. " Earth 2 a world free of religious domination " he said to himself out loud with a smile. Taking in a deep breath ,he decided to look around. " One day both worlds shall be mine" In the midst of the dark woods he walked to an open space and resumed his true form. From out of his back a multiple colored plumage of wings emerged. His face was that of a mad dog or hyena , perhaps a combination of the two. Hands and feet turned to pass and claws. Off into the air he flew. Pazuzu knew where the Viking king was, and he knew how to get there. ........…..............................................................................////./////........................................................... The winds from the West blew hot that day, bringing with them got burning sands. Fear over took the residents of Uruk. Many ran in doors and his for the fear was so great. The more superstitious would seek refuge in the temples of various deities. Those who were brave or felt they had not a trace of sin walked through the streets openly and brazenly. Yet there those who regarded Pazuzu as friend. Midwives had pendants dedicated to Pazuzu for despite how evil the from appeared to be he was the one who protected children from wicked goddess Lamashtu. The demoness was the queen of a class of demons who killed children and seduced men in the night. The union between these delineates and men produced children who were half demon and half human. Along with the wind often came plague and disease. No one was protected from the plagues that came with wind. Many died with sores covering their bodies. Their Skin Would Melt Off Their Face. Pazuzu landed, his form so hideous that even the one with bravest of hearts felt their souls melt in fear. Those brave ones who did not die, fled. Once Pazuzu appeared as the blond boy in a creme colored suit the plague stopped. People still fled. The bazaar was lined with abandoned stalls and shops. Still no one who was about would steal because the dread Lord Pazuzu loved to sla wrong doers. The numerous Viking guards moved aside as the familiar stranger in a creme colored suit walked with a swagger towards Ragnnar. " By Thor's beard you have returned, is it that time already! " the bearded Viking king exclaimed a loud. The demon gave a mild chuckle then said quietly his tone almost a whisper. "Well two things old friend, if I may so call you that. First this is the desert land and Thor has no sway here and second yes my avatAr has arrived"I

Friday, October 20, 2017

Say Bradbury Writing

Zen in The Art of WritingZen in The Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Ray Bradbury is on of the foremost American writers in America, who better to help the writer learn his craft then one of the masters. I could say that it all happened when he was a small boy collecting Buck Rogers’s comics and then to be considered normal he ripped them u and threw them away. This was a sin against his soul, something he deeply regretted. So the young boy rebought the comics and decided to stay true to himself. Smart decision.
The true writer must stay true to himself and find his own voice. The writer must live life to the fullest. For the writer cannot be a good writer if he or she does not live life to the fullest. He or she must have gusto and zest and it will infect his or her writing. Or should I say it will infuse his or her writing.

The writer by requirement to survive must write every day. Some writers will write a whole story in one day. Other writers will do only a few pages. The main thing is to write. Like any other art and in this I do consider sports and dance art forms, it must be practiced every day. Writing everyday does not only make the writer better at his or her craft but rather writing cleanses the writers mind.
Along the way through these easy to read and equally entertaining chapters, Ray Bradbury will tell you about his writing experiences and over several good tidbits on how to boost creativity. One thing a writer must realize is that short stories or poems can become novels. Novels can turn into screenplays. Just because your work is rejected by one publisher does not mean it will not be accepted by another publisher. Remember you are not a failure at writing until you stop writing. Ray suggest writing every day even if you end up trashing 4/5 of what you write that one fifth is what will make it.

A couple of techniques that the beginning or struggling author might find useful are word lists and realizing that your characters are really alive. The word list is nothing more than a word association. You write down a word on a piece of paper and after you get enough of them start writing your own story. Don’t worry the subconscious will feed the rest . It is good to remember that when writing you should immediately write down your story. Just spit it out. Do not worry about editing or correcting the words just get the story out . Another technique is to create or discover the character and let the character run. Your character will run forward and write the story for you. All the aspiring author has to do is just narrate what was seen in the minds eye.

Poetry and screen writing have a lot in common. Whereas the novelist strive to write the word but ow sot need to condense words or turn a paragraph into a picture. As writer he was frustrated when he had to condense his writing by to thirds but it was done and it was a success. Poetry is a picture contained in a stanza or paragraph.

Writing is Zen. The author must find their voice and not be an imitation of others. There is only one you just like there is only Shakespeare. Do not write for money but rather work , don’t think and relax.


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Monday, October 16, 2017

It Could be True

The White Man's Burden: Of Lies and DeceitThe White Man's Burden: Of Lies and Deceit by Isaiah Israel
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The prevalent myth is that white Europe is the apex of human development and culture and that modern white society brought modernity to the third world. History has proven this notion quite false. Many of the concepts that are thought to be white or European were actually thought of by people of color. The pillars of our society originate in Africa and the Middle East. Many good books have been written about this subject that document where everything came from.

I am on the fence about this one. They make several claims that yes are believable yet so far out of the box that I want more substantial proof. Would be nice if what they were saying was footnoted and lead back to a credible source. The book is filled with lots of pictures and I mean lots of them. Some are repeated multiple times. You there are put up with intent that certain personages were black. Some of the pictures are believable and others do not cut the ice. The book is done in an inte view dialogue style which is fine and may make for easier reading, yet it lacks the scholarly punch. It is obvious that some serious research went into this book so why not write it scholarly style. Through out the book white people are insulted much the same way that African Americans are by white supremacists. Calling white people people sub human, disease ridden knuckle draggers is not a way to reach an educated audience. While yeah sure I get the resentment but that is not going to reach out and touch an educated someone.

Most of us got it, mankind came out of Africa and we got most of our civilization from people of color. History is coming out with how people of color or mixed race people made incredible contribution to society but that contribution was white washed. Now this book does make a lot of radical assumptions. First off it says that the first people everywhere were black and that these blacks people were the ones who started all the societies. Once again believable but I want footnotes to the source. This means that the first native Americans were black. Those who started European civilization were black. Later on in northern India or Central Asia there were mutations, they were called Albino Dravidians. They multiplied and stayed to themselves but were so hounded and torn by Turks and other Asians that they fled to Europe where they were given protection by black Europeans. The black Europeans then brutally enslaved these white peoples even going so far as to take their skin and use it for book binding. The black kingdoms would later fight each other thus giving the white peopleca chance to over throw them. This culminated in 1492 with expulsion of the last moorish kingdom. The black nobility would be complete over thrown by like 1848. Quite a wild claim one that is not mentioned in History books. When talking about it I would like to know the source. There are several things you will,learn about like the sickness that white people are at risk for and how white peoples are dying off. You will also learn that the United States is still owned by Britain. It could b true.

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Thursday, October 12, 2017

Pantheism 101

One Heart, Many Gods: The Absolute Beginner's Guide to Devotional PolytheismOne Heart, Many Gods: The Absolute Beginner's Guide to Devotional Polytheism by Lucy Valunos
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This tiny booklet is designed for the new devotionalist to polytheism or the worship of many gods. The author fortunate to say is not dogmatic about her approach but rather she gives suggestions that are up to you as to whether to follow or not. The author has benefited from having learned from such other spiritual tradition such as Catholicism, Hoodoo, Wicca and Norse paganism.
Now this maybe a small book but I learned a good many practical things from it. Things that I would like to remember. One of the most important things is setting up a time both during the morning and during the evening. The morning is not as complex as the evening prayers. The morning prayers are usually briefer and done with a divination of sorts. The evening prayers are much longer and usually have meditation involved. The when and where you have your devotion is not set in stone. The gods are understanding and you can work devotional times around your schedule. Let us not, as the author reminds that we can devote many different times to our gods if that is where we are at. Devotions can be done at any time and simple hard work can be a devotion enough for a deity.
Offering are a big part of polytheism. There is much talk on what to offer deities. The bottom line is that it is the thought that counts not how expensive is the gift you give to the deities. Besides, food, drink, incense and candle there are other ways we can give to the gods. Sometimes we can help out by giving charity or helping a certain group that is important to the deity. Offering can be charity or acts of kindness.
Candle are a big offering item to the author. White candle tend to be all purpose. When devoting a candle to a deity you will want to be careful or at least mindful as to which color you get. There is also a recommended process of cleansing a candle and charging it and I find it very comprehensible. The author advises the reader to use 7 day candles with the wick in the center. First you clean the glass down with water or a cleaner of sorts. Then over incense you cleanse the candle of any negative energy. Next you use a marker or paint an you write the deities name on the candle. Then you dress the candle with oils and herbs scared to the gods. Barring that, if you cannot get the candle out of the glass you can carve the deities name on the top and bore a certain amount of holes into the candle top side to be filled with herbs and oils. Finally you can charge the candle with visualization or say a prayer of intent as to why you are giving it.
The author goes on to distinguish between altar and shrines. The altar is your working space either for devotion or magic. The altar is the deities’ home. Regardless of what you are working with always remember to keep it clean and tidy. Keeping it clean is a gift unto the gods themselves. I wish I had rea this book earlier as it makes forming your spiritual practice a whole lot easier. Very valuable.




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Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Pazuzus Child part III

Wise words of Nabu The bald prophet bedecked in white robes graced across the stone floor of the temple. His hands were folded behind his back with eyes looking heavenward he silently mused the information he received from the priestess. "An anzu with a severed paw? " he questioned allowed. The priestess nodded her head in confirmation. " you know " he said while continuing to pace the floor " that is quite a difficult task" Nabu paused to let the information sink in. " I do not believe that any creature or animal from this planet could perform such a feat" "Are you implying what I think you might be implying?" Asked the worried priestess. "My jinn informants have told me that walk ins to our world have increased" Nabu said matter of factly. "I know better priestess than to doubt your dreams and if it be vivid then it shall happen soon or it already has happened" "No human is capable of severing the paw of those ferocious beast" she stated adamantly. "Trajans have been coming through the portals and--" "Pah " interrupted the priestess. "They are dangerous to humans but to an anzu they are mere pests" "Some humans come through and they come armed with weapons I have not yet seem" stated Nabu. "Their planet is a twin of ours " the priestess said "if my dreams carry portent something grave is about to begin" ----------------------------------- The Wounded Anzu Nabu could not have been more wrong the priestess thought to herself many strangle monsters and creatures had been coming through the portals. That was not forgetting the demons and angels who could traverse worlds at will. The priestess thought it over as she made her way back to the temple. Angels could care less what happened in the worlds but demons were always up to some mischief. Weapons from the other world, the twin world. She had seen their weapons. Knives, swords , axes and spears, humans across the different worlds has those. Then there were those iron fire sticks they spewed hot burning metal. Iron fire sticks did not sever paws. In front of Inanna's a crowd of people had been gathering. What are these simple people gawking at she asked herself. The throng of people created a blanket line thick barrier between her and spectacle. "Make way " commanded the priestess. People began parting and moving to the side as she marched her way through . The first sight of blood caused her heart to plummet down to the pit of her stomach. Crimson red puddle glistening in the sun right next to the pawless hand of the flying leopard. Suddenly she grasped trying to catch her breath. People turned and stared in surprise. " What's wrong with priestess " they would with fear and concern oozing from their voice. The priestess bolted from the group and closed the temple doors behind her. Suiting down she struggled to catch her breath. With heavy grasp she recovered her breath and coming to grips with the concrete reality of her dream. It had been morning when she visited Nabu. It would take till late afternoon until she recovered from her shock. Her evening ritual had commenced with the setting of the sun. A pinkish glow of clouds and sun was splayed across the sky. Inside the temple the Priestss had lit up the coals and she cast her herbs on the coal and a cloud of smoke rose into the air. Drowsiness crept into her bones and her almond eyes became heavier and lidded. The image appeared above the burning coals. "Isharra you have summoned." StAted the voice from the emerging form of smoke. "Inanna divine goddess of love and war I have been given a dream and its contents be true" said the priestess summoning the goddess as she materialized in the smoke . As the beautiful lady emerged from the smoke the priestess described her dream. The beautiful form listened, she was lithe, tan, clad in only loin cloth and a covering over her chest. "Isharra my child," the goddess cooed "your land has been plundered and pillaged by the blue eyed invaders from the North. They take our maidens and enslave the youth. The folk are oppressed " isharra listened intently " salvation has arrived in the form of a great warrior who comes through the vortex from the original home planet. Their blood he shares yet he is watched by the Jinn." "Why would the Jinn have interest in a northern warrior from the vortex?" Questioned Isharra. "The Jinn have their machinations and scheme just like mankind and the Gods" the goddess gently explained. " "I have seen the men from the original world they are not strong of spirit or body but they have dangerous weapons" Isharra commented scepticly. "Northerners have the Warriors fury" smiled the goddess "this warrior will be Uruks salvation." The goddess paused while the priestess meditated. " you shall travel to Abzu and meet him in Enki's realm'" _____________________________________ Journey to the Abzu Cages filled with young women were trundling by western gate as Nabu bade Isharra farewell . The fear was palpable in their eyes. Legend of the harsh cold north abounded in Uruk. The poor treatment of nubile slaves was well noted. Young men would be conscripted into labor battalion of war battalions. Oppression weighed down heavily on residents of Uruk. "The dealers are dangerous, priestess" warned the scribe.. "we are well prepared Nabu believe me" she chided back at her friend with a smile. The priestess sucked in a deep breath through her nose and then smiled again. Nabu looked at her quizzically. "Change is in the air I can feel it " she said confidently. In the distance a group of slave traders appeared as if my by magic from the hot shimmering sands of the desert. Nabu looked at the priestess again. "Are you prepared to deal with this mirage that is popping out of the desert?" Nabu questioned the priestess. "Oh king of scribes do you not realized by now that as much as I am a servant of the goddess I am also her warrior" she smiled and then bade for her friend to continue. So they continued their march toward the realm of Enki. The four or five fur clad barbarians temained behind them in the distance. After a few hours they came upon the Euphrates river. Village people or Fellahin as they were called had set up a nameless town. A desert town by the edge of a fast moving somewhat muddy river. The fellahin would set out to the river and bring on fish. The fish not only provided food for families but could be traded for other goods. Straw boat of the fellahin could easily traverse a river, provided the weather was good. Families built mud and straw huts. Tent like eateries were set up by the rivers edge offering cooked fish, fruits and clean water for drinking. Isharra had been this way before. The cooked fish could be rather nauseating. Dates , figs and water would be sufficient. Sweat dripped down her body. Her clothes drenched with sweat as though she had cooled herself off in the river. Nabu noticed his friends condition and made comment. "This desert is hot but should you enter a vortex that takes you to the planet of the scribes you feel the real meaning of heat" "The planet Nabu is next to the real Of Utu" she shot back"a planet next to a star is a fiery death for anyone who crosses the wrong vortex." Her friend looked out to the river, with a glance of disdain he considered the straw boats of the fellahin. The Phoenicians Nabu thought to himself were the real boatmen around here. Having to flee their city states from the onslaught of the Northern invasion. Merchants and ship builders, that is what the Phoenicians were. Fleeing to safety and hiding at the first sign of fighting . Later they would reemerge, sometimes rebuilding somewhere else. With their superior ships they soon over took the boat trade especially to the sea. Of course the northern barbarians had ships as well but they were vicious and violent, in a battle the Phoenicians were no match for the Northern barbarians. As regrettable as the violence had been the Phoenicians added grandeur of sorts to the Euphrates. They stood grand in their majestic ships. Their beards well groomed and clean with curly hair going down the sides and the back. The merchant kings as some people called them looked regal in their white and purple wardrobe. To travel this hot desert was pointless. Nabu and the priestess needed a sea worthy ship that would take them to Dilmun, the island paradise and gateway to Enki's realm. The dinging ring of the town bells aroused Nabu from His reverie. The fellahin dashed this way and that way like rats scurrying in panic. Any who attempted to resist was most brutally cut down. The wooden cages were being filled with people they had captured. Two of the raiders suddenly eyed Nabu and Isharra. The prophet stood suddenly and uttered something in a language Isharra did not understand. From out of the desert skies a wind storm erupted with sudden and violent ferocity. The raiders rushed forward only to be pushed back by the winds excessive force. Sand got in their eyes leaving them blind. Isharra took advantage by unsheathing her dagger and thrusting it into any raiders unfortunate to cross her path. Down they fell into earn pools of their sticky red blood. Some would fall grasping while trying to hold their innards from spilling out recklessly. Isharra had effectively dispatched 3 of the raiders. Seven more still remained the warrior priestess was ready. It was something like a mirage or illusion. A shimmering filled a small place of air. The air had become a somewhat deadly still. The raiders, Nabu and the priestess stood and stared as what appeared to be a large eye has materialized and then began to open. Isharra turned to look at Nabu. He gave her back the knowing stare. Someone had opened a portal or a vortex. The two figures walked through the portal. One a definite stranger to these parts with fiery red hair, beat up looking blue pants and an animal Hyde coat of the likes she has never seen before. The other figure a man also came through. A dark man of African complexion dressed in a cloth hat, a light blue shirt and strange blue pants that were quite alien to her. The tendrils of heat were coming off his body as though they were water vapors forced into evaporation in the desert heat. He was jinn she thought to herself that much was obvious. They were masters at portal traveling. The raiders looked at the strangers in awe. A jinn set in battle mode could be quite the dangerous thing. Yet, the jinn did not attack rather he seemed to whispering something into the other stranger's ear. As if the strange red hair and bizarre clothing were not enough, the man with strange clothes lunged toward the attacking raiders. His greenish hazel eyes flared as though pit with an angry fire that lit up from his eyes. One of the raiders swung a broad sword at the foreigners head but he ducked it rather skillfully and then landed a strong right punch into the raiders rib cage. The raider bent forward just in order to receive a left hook to his jaw. He went down unconscious. Another warrior rushed forward using the exact same maneuver that the previous raider had used. The foreigner or Darren as is his name ducked the blow and picked up a dead fighters sword. Darren slashed the attackers legs knocking him down on his back. As the raider struggled to get off his back Darren jammed the sword into the raiders chest. He died gurgling in his own blood. Another attacker tried to grab him from behind. Darren effortlessly slipped under his arm and jammed the attacker in his ribs and as his head bent down Darren grabbed him by the hair and flipped onto the sand. The body hit the desert floor with a giant thud. The raider made an attempt to get up and continue his assault but Darren drive his foot down into his assailant throat. Another attacker was sent hurtling toward a wooden cage filled with female captives. They grabbed their oppressor and held him by his arms and hair. Darren finished him Off with a lunging kick to the chest. The other two attackers fled. One of the looked back and yelled "Traitorious Khazars, I know you sword of God and for your treachery you shall pay." _____________________________________ Enki's Realm The Phoenician boat docked upon the shore upon seeing that the fighting was over. "hail and come aboard" the Phoenician bellowed out with a smile that showed his pearly white teeth. Nabu smiled and waved back at his friend. Isharra glanced back at the Jinn and Darren and cast them s serious look. It made Darren feel quite unwelcome. " I think now is the time to bring out the paw" the jinn said quietly in Darren's ear. Isharra walked over quietly and cautiously. The look of confusion written on her face plain to see. Darren pulled out a sack covered with dried blood and showed them the paw of the wounded leopard with wings. "so is it this walk in that shall be our savior?" She questioned the jinn with what sounded to Darren to be laced with an element of scorn. "he could be" Murad answered back non chalantly. "He did cut the paw off a raging Anzu that was about to rip out heads off for dinner. So yeah he might be." "A walk in" replied the priestess with scorn. "well Isharra " he said with a smile " You might not like walk ins but just remember you people originated from his world so in a way you are also walk ins" Isharra snorted angrily and then turned to her friend Nabu. The bald scribe beckoned them aboard the ship. The priestess turned back to Murad and Darren. "Jinn we are traversing over water to Enki's realm" she said in a serious tone. "Oh I know " he chuckled. "you should have made the walk in go back to his own realm " she sniffed and then turned toward the ship beckoning Darren to follow. By the island of Dilmun, perhaps a few feet or yards from the shore , a giant hole emerged that lead to some where beneath the ground. Hiram the burly bearded Phoenician pointed it out to Darren. "That hole in the sea will take you to Enki's realm, he is the good lord of the deep." "lord of the underworld?" Darren questioned. Isharra scowled while Nabu seemed to remain indifferent. "By Ilu's beard no, his realm is a large sea beneath the surface of the land. It is his kingdom and most beautiful it is " "An underwater sea? " Darren shot back incredulously. "A sea of sweet water that will quench any thirst you may have " Hiram belly laughed holding his gut and showing his teeth. "Is this entrance and sea also on my planet?" Darren asked this time with a tone of curiously. "the sea is there but not the entrance, I do not think Enki wants your earthlings wandering into his realm" the Phoenician replied. " your people have damaged the planet enough."

Friday, October 6, 2017

Hunt for the Red Scorpion: Yesterday's War on Terror

From the Tower of DarknessFrom the Tower of Darkness by Carroll Runyon
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The war on terror is not a new thing. Ever since the Europeans took control of the Middle East after World War I they have been wrestling with the aspect of terror. This is an adventure packed novel taking place during that time period, written by a master occultist. There is not too much occult stuff thrown in except that the main bad guy from Corsica, Scorpio La Rouge uses astrology to plan his operations.
Alan Vaughn is a British agent assigned as an intelligence officer of sorts in Egypt. He has learned the ways of the Near East and can blend in quite effectively. The novel starts off with a show down with Echmet Yosef in the African desert. Alan’s Objective is to break into break into Scorpio La Rouge’s safe and steal some precious documents and a Seal of Solomon. The documents implicate some dirty secrets about some big wig French people that could bring them down. La Rouge is also running guns for the French so they can arm the Mahdist movement in Sudan and weaken the British sphere of influence. Another thing is Princess Shebaba and illegitimate heir to the throne of Ethipoia. She is a dancer for La Rouge and a lover of Alan Vaughn. Together they work on a plot to crack the safe and get the goods. Alan hires some thugs and the princess has Zagussi, her body guard helping her. Things go awry during the break in . They are captured on board a ship here even more adventures ensue until they finely land on the base of operations in Africa.

For those who like high adventure novel this one is for you. There is plenty of intrigue to go around. I liked it because it is about the Middle East.


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Wednesday, October 4, 2017

African American Medicine of the Gullah.

Hoodoo MedicineHoodoo Medicine by Faith Mitchell
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is a shot little book that I wish was quite a bit longer. Faith Mitchell generated this book by traveling to the Sea Side Islands off the coast of the Carolina’s these islands were home to a large African American community back during the colonial period. Back in those times it was all African American with the exception of a few white people who were plantation owner and over seers. The language they spoke was gulla. Even up to the 1930’s the area was rather neglected. As the population grew people began moving out. Mostly it is the older generation of people at that know about the herbal cures.

In Africa the elders knew what each of the herbs and plants could heal. When they came to the new land they had to make substitutions. Some of this was based on their own knowledge, other of it came from the Europeans and the Native Americans. The Native American knew about the plant lore and taught a lot of that lore to the Africans. Most Hoodoo medicines are a one single plant or two to three at the most. For the Hoodoo practioners sicknesses came in the guise of three things . The first was regular illness, the second was sickness sent by someone with occult powers and finally the third illness was because of sin.

In the beginning many people would consult Native American Healers and African American Healers. But as time progressed it was illegal to consult anyone but a white European doctor. Thus the only people to be treated would be other slaves if even that.

The second part of the book talks about herbs and what they were used to cure. There is an extensive bibliography in the back. The herb section tells the name of the herb the first part renders a description. Next it tells you which part of the plant to use. Finally what it is used for.
Some example
White Root: usd for colds an drunbk as a tea. Swamp Grass has the leaves used for sprains. It also tells how the European used the herbs as well.


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Baba-Sali

Baba-Sali
Holy Morroccan Sage engaged in Prayer

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One blond hair blue eyed Calfornian who totally digs the Middle East.