Duane Moore

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She looks happy enough:

Taken from a drawing by Crowley. Just a couple of minutes work with this one.

If only I could find a girl like Leah.

As I keep getting invitations and I desperately need to get away from it all. Not that there is much in Loughborough except a few weird sculptures, police helicopters flying overhead all the time and a Paedo-nonce who loiters outside my brother’s house.

I really need to lay some ghosts to rest there coupled with the fact that I told my uncle that I would come down some time and pop in to see him.

I’m opting for June because I’ll then be able to say:

In June 2006 I was in Margate, God help me.

Which will be fitting seeing as it will be the centennary of Crowley:

In June 1906 I was in Margate, God help me.

The Crowley reference is from one of the numbers of The Equinox, I can’t remember which, but do remember it being a book review.

I hate going through the abyss as there is precious little to guide me in the right direction except my aspirations which are sometimes in that state of mind clouded by doubts and fears, erroneous and illusory though they are.

I have come to the conclusion that I need to find a new “I am” as I still haven’t managed to find who I really am after everything that I’ve gone through in the last nine months. A babe of the abyss indeed.

Having previously for the last 15 years lived a life more reclusive than Austin Osman Spare (I made him look as social and as out-going as Crowley) and then dropping back into society after the death of my father and inheriting his house with all the responsibilities that that entails, has been a drastic change to me. When so much has changed both internally and externally I find it difficult to see properly, pretty much like waking from a long sleep and having to wipe ones eyes before clear vision returns.

With so much chaos to deal with, i.e. everything being in a state of drastic change, I haven’t really sat down yet and spent time getting to know the new me. I still don’t feel comfortable with everything although I know I ought to count my blessings. I really do have it sorted in owning my own home with the money that my dad left to get it modernised. All the bills are paid and there is plenty of food in the cupboard.

I’m finding it difficult functioning socially as I know that being the sort of person that I am it is not going to be easy to cause social change, as opposed to internal change, solely due to the fact that I have a bigger vision of things than most people. I am a disruptive force sometimes, Set incarnate, but sometimes turn this in on myself to dire ends as not being able to get the changes in my life leads me to somehow try and change myself to being more, what’s the word, social? Clone-like? Sheepish?

I really do need to see some things in their correct perspective and to act accordingly, not discordingly, as it isn’t good for me.

I want one like this:

That looks like this:

And this:

Inside it looks like this:

On the spine it looks like this:

And with the cover on, like this:

Inside the cover it looks like this:

It has to be as *perfect* a copy as can be expected for a book published in 1929.

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All images originally from:

The best Thelemic site on the ‘net

I was reading bits of Gordon Home’s The Evolution of an English Town last night and came across all the information that Keith Snowdon had put in his booklet regarding The Stang Ride. Not one original word did he add.

At least I know where he got that information from. I just need to be able to find a little more. At least Snowden didn’t omit the last word of the line:

But for the sake of old . . .

because that is also how it appeared in the book. (He also failed to mention that the local Police didn’t like the Stang Ride!) I’m still convinced that the word should have some diabolical connotation.

I was pleased to find that Rosamunds Tower at the castle is really The Devil’s Tower.

The Devil’s Tower (on the right with door) from an 1823 engraving.

It reminds me of the film The Ninth Gate.

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From Pickering Library:

Home, Gordon - The Evolution of an English Town: Being the story of the ancient town of PICKERING in Yorkshire from Pre-historic times up to the year of our Lord Nineteen Hundred and 5.

Also in my library:

Snowdon, Keith - Pickering Through the Ages: A Concise History of this Ancient North Yorkshire town. Castleden Publications, Pickering, 1997. Second revised and expanded edition with new introduction. Paperback. 54 pp. Includes several paragraphs regarding the Pickering Stang Ride. Plates and diagrams.

All information regarding the Stang Ride was added with this edition.

This is a serious question.

Why is it that some people just don’t understand the word “no”?

If some girl that I don’t want starts coming on to me then I tell her to keep her hands to herself. If she insists she gets threatened with a punch. It’s as simple as that. No means no.

Ditto for all my business dealings.

While I appreciate that not everybody has my best interests at heart, I do find it stunning that people are so closed minded that they can’t actually see the truth of the situation when I tell them that I am either not interested in them or their business, whatever.

I actually know that I’m not unreasonable as anybody who is willing to work with me is well rewarded. That’s the way it should be. If you scratch my back I’ll give you a full on massage with scented candles and soft lighting and music. If you stab me in the back then I will destroy your life. One of my disciples learnt this the hard way by being forcible ejected from my home a few years ago, only to then loose his business and go bust. A business that I helped to set up using magick.

Anybody who has been courteous to read even a few threads of this blog (bless you people) will soon realise that I lost a father last year and that I inherited his house which I am slowly turning into a Thelemic power zone. A dream that is finally becoming flesh. While I appreciate there may be opposition I do find it stunning that I’m finding it difficult to find co-workers to actually bring my dream to reality. Money doesn’t seem to be the issue here as all the builders that I’ve had around have failed to provide a single quote for the work that needs doing.

Ian did turn up last night just gone six with a heating installer and he said that I should, all being well, have a quote by the end of next week. At least he’s keeping me in the picture. At least I know what’s going on. He also said that all the work should take about a month and that it may be easier if I move out for a couple of days while the central heating gets put in. I can appreciate that, it’s not a problem. If you’re willing to sort my home for me then I am more than willing to work with you, not against you.

So to sum up: No, I’m not unreasonable. Just don’t take the piss.

I went to bed yesterday afternoon for a few hours as I was completely exhausted and really needed some time off. I still do and need a holiday.

When I woke I found there was a message on my machine from that Smith Brothers arse hole in Ripon. Which part of my email which said “FUCK OFF” did they not understand? I thought I had made it perfectly clear.

Which part of my sarcastic design skills is so difficult to comprehend?

I am now faced with options: contact the Police and report them for harassment and trying to get my money, contact BT about nuisance calls, contact Trading Standards in Ripon, contact all three company Directors and tell them what a split-arse bunch of no good shits they really are. Perhaps all options, and more besides that I haven’t thought of yet.

What does it take for some people to get into their stupid fucking heads that I don’t want to do business with them?

Again, 1680 * 1050:

(The latest installment of Duane’s Initiation by water and fire.)

I had a message on my answer machine yesterday from Ian who is coming around on Thursday night at six with a central heating installer. Oh joy!

For anybody reading this I should point out that I live in a house with no heating upstairs, very poor plumbling and no washing machine: I have to do it all by hand in the kitchen sink.

When you have spent a winter freezing with no heat you soon realize how warmth and comfort are taken for granted in our modern world. Fire is a God, but who really appreciates that fact?

If society were to suddenly collapse completely (it wouldn’t take a lot, really) then the Old Gods would be worshipped again as it would be a case of adapt to nature or die.

At least I’ve had part of my plumbing fixed and no longer have water spurting everywhere.